


Heaven By Your Side

by despntiel



Series: Heaven By Your Side Verse [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fallen Castiel, M/M, Protective Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-04
Updated: 2013-06-04
Packaged: 2017-12-13 23:38:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 44,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/830162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/despntiel/pseuds/despntiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean has to take care of a very grace-less, very human Castiel while Sam and Gabriel try to get his angel mojo back. But being together all the time makes feelings much harder to hide for everybody involved...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"What the hell was that?" Dean demanded angrily, finally breaking the silence in the car after a good two or three hours. Both brothers had spent the first half of the drive with stiff jaws and clenched fists, neither wanting to confront the other and start the inevitable fight that was brewing. But apparently Dean had had enough; he needed to let off some steam.

"What are you asking me for? I didn't do anything wrong!" Sam snapped. "It was your stupid idea in the first place, and you're the one who screwed it all up."

"I screwed up? Really? Because last I checked you were supposed to follow my lead and have my back, not go off on your own and leave me alone with a freaking shifter!" Dean glared at his brother.

"Well excuse me for thinking you could handle yourself for two seconds without me," the younger Winchester said in a voice positively dripping with sarcasm.

"You can't just disappear like that, Sam!" Dean almost shouted. "I had no idea what was going on and you were just gone!"

"What do you want me to do, give you a play-by-play of everything I do? 'Dean, I'm taking two steps to the right, now I'm going one step forward, Dean I'm gonna stab the shifter now, I'm raising my arm –'"

"Cut the crap, Sam, I'm serious," Dean hissed. "Don't joke around about this. You could've gotten hurt."

"I'm a big boy, I can go for all of 60 seconds without you watching my back," Sam rolled his eyes. "You're so damn protective. Lay off a little."

Dean's grip tightened on the steering wheel and his knuckles turned white as his face turned increasingly deeper shades of red. He grumbled to himself before punching the power button on the radio, blasting Motor Head to help ease the tension that was suffocatingly heavy in the small car.

The rest of the drive to Bobby's was uneventful, Sam staring out his window in a pout and Dean focusing unusually hard on the road. They pulled up outside the house and started bickering again before they even got to the front door.

"Go ahead, take your anger out on my car, Sam. Could you have slammed the door any harder?"

"Jesus, you're even protective of your car, just give it a rest."

"One more word, I swear..."

"What are you gonna do, huh? Beat me up for saving your life back there? That's one hell of a way to say thanks."

As they entered the cluttered living room, Bobby stood up from his seat on the couch, bottle in hand.

"Nice to see you too, boys," he chuckled, looking back and forth between the two obviously pissed off hunters. "There's more beer in the kitchen."

"I got it," Dean muttered, leaving the room and his brother as fast as he could.

Bobby resumed his place next to Sam as the bigger man settled on the couch. "Tough job?"

"You have no idea." Sam closed his eyes and leaned his head back, taking a deep breath. "He is so on edge. I think he just needs a break for a while. He's been going nonstop since..."

"Yeah," Bobby murmured in agreement. Though Sam had trailed off, they both knew exactly what he was talking about. "Maybe you boys should just stay here for awhile, let him settle down before you run off again. Wouldn't mind havin' some company around here."

Sam looked over at Bobby and nodded appreciatively. "Yeah, sure. Thanks."

The older hunter grunted and took a swig of his beer as Dean returned with two more bottles, one of which he tossed to Sam before opening and gulping down his own. "I'm tired, where can I crash?" he asked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"I only got this here couch and that panic room downstairs," Bobby told him.

Glancing at Sam sitting comfortably on the couch, Dean sighed, "Thanks. I'll be downstairs. Don't wake me up." And then he was gone again.

Bobby shook his head. "That boy sure is upset about somethin', ain't a doubt in my mind it's that angel of his. How long s'it been?"

"Almost a year now." Sam kicked off his boots and propped his feet up on the coffee table. "You'd think he'd just send Dean a message or something, tell him where he is or why he even left in the first place. But we haven't heard anything."

"Damn shame. And to think, I was starting to like him, too."

"Dean! Dean wake up! Get up!"

The older Winchester groaned, "I thought I told you not to wake me up." He waved a hand, shooing his brother away without opening his eyes.

"Dean, it's Cas. You gotta get up man. He's hurt."

Dean's eyes shot open and he was out of bed in a flash. "What? Where? How?"

"Come on." Sam tugged at his shirt and pulled him up the stairs, still blinking sleep out of his eyes. "I don't know how he got here but something's wrong with him, he won't talk to me, he's just asking for you and he looks bad –"

Dean stopped short when they reached the living room. Bobby was kneeling over the couch with a wet rag in his hand, trying to get it onto Castiel's forehead, but the angel wouldn't lie still. Despite the strong hands holding his shoulders down, he kept reaching upwards, trying to sit up, frantically calling out, "Dean! Dean!"

Immediately the hunter was at his side. "I'm here, Cas. Lay down. Be still."

Castiel relaxed almost instantly when he heard Dean's voice. He settled against the pillow propped behind his back and shut his eyes, trying to slow his jagged, uneven breathing. He was covered in sweat and his vessel was in bad shape. It looked as if he hadn't slept or eaten in days, dark circles under his eyes and skin stretched tight over angled bones. Dean never noticed how tiny Jimmy's body was; now he looked especially fragile, thin and bony and swallowed up by the trench coat he was wearing, which had never looked so big on him before. Dean's eyes trailed over the dark, messy hair, the light stubble on his chin, the sculpted cheekbones and jawline.

It had been almost a year since he'd seen that face. They had just finished a hunt, were celebrating with burgers and beers at a diner, having a great time. One second Castiel was there, pressed into Dean's side, talking and even cracking a small smile at one point – and then he was gone without a word. Just left and didn't come back or call or send a message. Dean had no idea where he was, what happened to him, how he was doing... until now.

"What happened, Cas?" he whispered, bringing a hand up to lay on his shoulder.

The angel hissed at the contact, obviously in pain. He looked up at Dean with what seemed to be tears in his bright blue eyes. "I am injured," he stated simply.

Dean sighed in exasperation. "I know... but how? Where? What hurts?"

Castiel flicked his gaze nervously at Sam and Bobby before settling back on Dean. "My... everything. It all hurts," he whimpered.

"What do you need? Ice? Heat? Water?" Dean asked, gently but forcefully. When he didn't get an immediate response, he added, "I need to know how to help you, Cas." He rubbed the angel's arm tenderly, soothing him.

"Water," Castiel finally gasped after a moment, still unable to get his breathing under control.

"Sam, get water," Dean barked without moving his eyes away from Castiel's face. The younger Winchester rolled his eyes before rushing to the kitchen and bringing back a full glass of cold water, which he handed off to his brother.

Dean raised the glass to Castiel's mouth and helped him take a small sip. However, as soon as the cool liquid touched his lips, he recoiled and yelped, "No! Too cold!"

Dean thrust the glass at Sam again. "Warm water."

"Right away, your highness," he muttered, nevertheless running into the kitchen again without hesitation.

Dean noticed that Castiel had goosebumps and that he was shaking. "Are you cold Cas? Bobby, get some blankets," he demanded. He stood to help, but Castiel clutched his arm with frail fingers and held it tight, staring up at him with pleading eyes. So instead he settled back on the couch, allowing himself to be pulled down to lie beside the angel and circling his arms around him, sharing his body heat.

Sam returned with another glass of water – warmer this time – and raised a questioning eyebrow at his brother, who was practically spooning the other man. But Dean ignored him, taking the water and holding it up for Castiel, who drank it eagerly.

Bobby spread an old ragged blanket out over the two men and then stepped back, chuckling. "Well ain't that cute."

Dean glared at him. "This isn't funny."

"It's a little funny," Sam smirked.

"I feel better," Castiel murmured, rolling over and burying his face in a very surprised Dean's chest. "I'm going to sleep now."

True to his word, he fell asleep almost immediately, curled up against the hunter, arms wrapped around his torso.

Dean looked up at Bobby and Sam helplessly. "What do I do?" he whispered.

Sam grinned, "Take a nap with your boyfriend, I guess." He grabbed his abandoned beer from the coffee table and sauntered out of the room, not even attempting to hide his laughter.

Dean turned to Bobby, eyes begging him for help, but the older man just shrugged and followed Sam out with his own hearty chuckle.

Dean groaned. He looked down at the sleeping angel on his chest and debated whether or not he should try to get up before deciding he was actually pretty comfortable. He shifted slightly to lay down better and Castiel moved with him, slotting their bodies together with ease. It was a tight fit on the narrow couch, but it was kind of nice, Dean thought. He tightened his hold around the smaller man and closed his eyes, picking up his nap from where he left off.

Sam leaned against the hood of an old car in Bobby's salvage yard, looking sadly at his empty beer bottle. Sure there were more in the fridge inside, but he was too lazy to move. It was warm out, and he was watching the sunset, which he didn't get to do very often.

He was glad that Castiel had shown up. Worried, yeah, but still glad. Ever since he disappeared, Dean had gotten even more angsty and hard-headed than usual. Hopefully they would sort things out so Sam could go back to being able to have a normal conversation with his brother without getting into a full-blown fight. From the way the two men were cuddled up on the couch, it looked like there was a pretty good chance of that happening.

Suddenly he felt a slight breeze and heard a rustle of wings beside him. He jumped to his feet and tensed up, but relaxed when he realized who it was.

"Hey there, Sammy," Gabriel greeted him with a smirk, caramel colored eyes twinkling. "Long time no see, eh? How're things in Winchester World?"

"Uh, fine, I guess," the tall hunter replied. "What are you doing here?"

"Can't ever stop by just to catch up with friends then, huh?" The archangel sat on the faded blue car and patted the spot next to him, where Sam joined him. "You're right though, I am here for a reason. Unfortunately, not a very good one. Lil bro is in some trouble."

"What, you mean Cas?" Sam asked. "You know what happened to him?"

"Not completely... but what I do know ain't any good." Gabriel shook his head. "Poor kid got his grace ripped out."

"He what?! How? Why?"

"One question at a time, buddy," the archangel chuckled. "But I don't really know the answer to any of 'em. All I know is, we gotta find that grace. It's not good for it to be out there in the open, up for grabs like that. Plus, we oughta get it back to Castiel. Without it, he's pretty much completely human, and he's not gonna be too happy about that."

Sam nodded and stood up. "Okay then, let's go get it."

"Whoa whoa whoa," Gabriel held up his hands, an amused smile in his eyes, "slow down there, partner. I'm glad you're all up and armed, but we don't even know where to start looking yet. That's why I came to you; you can use all those nerdy research skills of yours to figure out where this thing might've landed."

Sam nodded again. "C'mon inside, I'll grab my laptop." He turned and set off for the house.

When he made his way back into the living room, laptop and Bobby in tow, he found the archangel staring at the two sleeping men intertwined on the couch.

"It's kinda creepy to watch people sleeping, ya know," Sam pointed out.

"They're a cute couple," Gabriel snickered before turning his back to them.

"If Dean ever hears you say that, he's gonna hit you so hard."

"Dean-o would never hit me! He likes me."

"Yeah, right," Bobby snorted. "Let's just get crackin' on this grace thing before more trouble starts showin' up at my door."

Castiel woke slowly, melting into the warmth surrounding him. He buried his face in the soft fabric he was laying on, breathing in a familiar smell, one that he loved. Sort of earthy, mixed with aftershave and motor oil... His eyes flew open as he realized – he was laying on top of Dean. He glanced up anxiously, but the hunter hadn't woken up yet. His face was relaxed and his full lips were slightly parted, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm.

Castiel settled back on his human pillow, inhaling deeply and memorizing his scent. He moved his hand and ran his fingers down the muscles of Dean's stomach, admiring the firm, defined curves that were visible through the thin t-shirt. He wondered if Jimmy had muscles like that. He had never looked – he had never showered, or changed clothes. He had never needed to.

Come to think of it, he had never slept either. This whole waking-up thing should have freaked him out, but it didn't. He felt... warm, content, safe. And he was pretty sure that had a lot to do with the fact that he was with Dean.

The angel wasn't afraid to admit that he had feelings for Dean – not-so-friendly feelings, either. They were much deeper than that. They had been there since he pulled the hunter from Hell, but he had never known what to do with them, so he never did anything. Just was there when he was needed, watched over and protected his charge. Sometimes he thought maybe the feelings were mutual, but other times he was certain they weren't.

Whatever Dean felt, Castiel was willing to just love him however he was allowed to. Now, he was laying with him, being held by him, and he cherished it, knowing that he may not get this chance again.

He laid there in silence trailing curious fingers across the hunter's stomach for a few precious moments while he slept. Much too soon, Dean began to stir, and Castiel stilled his hand and shut his eyes, waiting to be pushed away.

He felt Dean inhale sharply and the larger man's hands jumped, hovering uncertainly over Castiel's body. Then, to the angel's surprise, he chuckled softly and let his arms fall back down, actually tightening his hold on Castiel. He rubbed a hand in small circles on his back and murmured softly, "Morning, sunshine."

Castiel shifted gently, moving his head to meet Dean's gaze, instantly mesmerized by the shining green eyes. "I believe it's actually rather late in the evening," he stated matter-of-factly.

Dean chuckled again, and Castiel felt the vibrations rumble through him. "You feeling better?"

He nodded enthusiastically. "Much better."

The smiling face above him suddenly took on a more serious look. "What happened to you, Cas?" Dean asked quietly.

The angel broke eye contact, laying his head back down. "I... don't remember."

"You're a terrible liar."

He sighed heavily. "I think... I lost my grace."

"You what?"

He could feel the concerned eyes on him, but Castiel refused to meet them with his own. "I lost my grace," he repeated.

"You lost it? How? Why?"

"What is it with you Winchesters, asking a million questions at once?" Dean and Castiel jumped away from each other at the sound of the taunting voice from the other side of the room, causing the smaller man to tumble ungracefully down to the floor. Gabriel smirked as he sauntered into the living room, Sam and Bobby at his heels.

"Gabriel? What are you doing here?" Dean asked as he sat up and reached out a hand to help Castiel up off the floor.

"Just dropping by to say hello to my favorite happy couple," he grinned. "How was your nap, gentlemen?"

Before Dean could shoot out a nasty comeback, Castiel began explaining to his brother, "Gabriel, I am in need of your help. I think I lost –"

"Your grace, I know, I know." The archangel motioned over to the other two hunters. "We're on it."

"Actually, I'm glad you're up," said Sam, walking over to the fallen angel, "because I wanted to see if you could help us. If you remember falling or anything."

Castiel furrowed his brow and tilted his head. "I don't believe I remember anything. Just..." He glanced over at Dean, who was watching him with worry on his face. He decided to leave out how painful the fall was, how awful it was to have his grace ripped out of him, because he knew it would just concern the hunter even more. "Just darkness," he finished finally. He met his brother's eyes and they shared a knowing look. Gabriel understood Castiel's pain, but also understood his desire to keep it hidden.

The younger Winchester shook his head with disappointment. "Guess I gotta get to work then. I'll be in the study." He hurried off, determined to find some answers, soon followed by the archangel after he nodded at his brother and shot a quick wink at Dean.

Bobby handed Dean a beer and pointed at Castiel. "You oughta get him cleaned up. I imagine falling from heaven's gonna leave a couple bruises."

The angel's eyes widened with panic. He had never been injured like this before – like a human. He was always able to heal himself quickly and he had never really felt any pain from simple wounds. But now that he thought about it, he did feel slightly uncomfortable and sore in some places, and when he moved there was a sharp pain in his ribs.

Dean grunted and swung his legs around to stand up. "C'mon, Cas, there's a bathroom upstairs we can use."

Castiel rose to his feet, but he swayed a little, still weak. His hand flew out and held onto Dean tightly, who put an arm around his shoulders and held him steady.

"You okay buddy?"

Castiel nodded and allowed the hunter to guide him up the stairs and into the bathroom. Dean then lifted him up and placed him gently on the counter next to the sink before rummaging through the cabinet for first aid supplies. He found some rubbing alcohol and a washcloth along with some bandages and gauze.

"Let's get you outta this coat, huh?" Dean began stripping Castiel of his clothes, starting with the old trench coat. He peeled off layer after layer, unbuttoning the suit jacket and the white shirt, undoing the tie and throwing it carelessly on the floor along with the rest of the clothes. He motioned for Castiel to lift up his arms so he could pull off the thin undershirt, but the fallen angel winced and cried out when he tried.

He looked up at Dean, vision blurred with tears. "It hurts," he rasped.

"I know, I know," the hunter soothed him, cupping his cheek with one hand and resting the other on his thigh. "Where?"

"My back and my shoulders," Castiel whimpered.

Dean stood between Castiel's legs and moved his hands around to grip the hem of Castiel's shirt, moving forward until their cheeks brushed together and he felt him lean into the touch. He carefully lifted the undershirt as high as he could, gasping at what he saw in the mirror.

"Oh my God, Cas..."

Deep blue and purple spots marked Castiel's shoulders, blending together so they looked as if it was one giant black bruise covering his back. No wonder he was in such immense pain. There were tiny tears in the skin along his spine, as if it had just stretched too far and ripped apart, leaving streaks of dried blood on the inside of his shirt. He hissed when he felt calloused fingers trail over the open cuts.

"Sorry," Dean apologized quickly, drawing his hand back. He pulled away and green eyes found watery blue ones. "I'm gonna try to clean you up, but it might hurt... a lot. I promise I'll be as fast as I can, okay?"

Castiel sniffled and nodded his head. "I trust you, Dean."

Dean just stared at him a moment longer, his face reflecting the sadness and pain he saw in his friend's, almost as if he could feel what his angel felt. Finally he sighed and reached over for the rubbing alcohol, which he poured onto the washcloth. He hesitated over Castiel's back, grimacing, then gingerly dabbed it on one of the cuts.

Castiel stifled his scream by biting down on the hunter's shoulder hard enough to draw blood. Dean's free hand flew to the back of his head, cradling it against him as he moved swiftly with the cloth over Castiel's back.

"It's almost over, I'm almost done," he whispered into Castiel's ear. With one last swipe, he had cleaned all of the open wounds, and he dropped the bloodied cloth into the sink as he gripped the shaking body in his arms and rocked back and forth.

"It's okay, you're okay, we're finished," he repeated over and over, though fingernails still dug into his back and strangled cries were still muffled into his shoulder. Finally the sobs subsided into sniffles and the small form relaxed against him.

"The worst part's over," Dean sighed, "but I still gotta put these bandages on, okay? Are you with me?" He felt the nod and reached over to get the gauze without letting go of Castiel, who still clutched him tightly.

Castiel breathed deeply, trying to calm himself. That hadn't been nearly as painful as the actual fall, but he couldn't help his reactions, feeling utterly, helplessly human when he lost control. As he was being wrapped up by sure, gentle hands, he realized how comforting it was to have Dean taking care of him. The sound of his voice and the warmth of his touch instantly made him feel better. He nestled further into Dean's chest and breathed in his scent. He didn't even notice when the hunter stopped working on his back.

"You okay, Cas?"

"Mmm." The ex-angel didn't want to move from his safe embrace and he savored the last few seconds.

"Come on," Dean murmured, backing up from between Castiel's legs and moving around to his side. He scooped him up in his arms like a child and carried him out of the bathroom, back downstairs where he laid him down on the couch again. Castiel settled on his stomach, avoiding putting pressure on his aching back. Dean tucked the blanket around him and whispered, "Sleep now."

Dean watched as Castiel's breathing slowly evened out and he fell into a deep sleep. He resisted the urge to reach out and caress his cheek, run his fingers through that dark hair, lay beside him and protect him. It was strange, caring for Castiel. Their roles were reversed. But as Dean gazed down at his fallen angel, he thought to himself, it felt good to finally be able to give back to the one who had given everything for him.


	2. Chapter 2

"Be careful, it's hot," Dean reminded Castiel as he set the steaming bowl down on his lap. He didn't actually need to remind him anymore – a couple of burned tongues had taught the lesson far better than words ever could – but he did it anyways because he always laughed watching Castiel puff out his cheeks and blow determinedly on the broth for a few minutes before starting to eat.

"I can't believe you're not tired of that stuff yet," the hunter chuckled, plopping down on the couch. "What's that, like, your hundredth bowl of chicken noodle soup so far?"

Castiel cocked his head to the side. "It's good," he stated before continuing to blow on his soup.

"Yeah, but don't you want to try something else? Have some pie," Dean insisted, holding up a forkful of the sugary mess from his own plate.

Shoving his hand away playfully, Castiel huffed, "I've told you many times, I don't want any. You're missing your favorite part," he added, nodding his head toward the tv screen.

It seemed as though in the three days since the fallen angel appeared at Bobby's salvage yard, Dean and Castiel hadn't moved from their spots on the couch, watching re-runs of Dr. Sexy with soup and pie. Bobby had left his house to the boys after getting a vague call from one of his hunter friends and going off to help with something or other. Sam had busied himself looking for signs of the missing grace while Gabriel made a general nuisance of himself, and though Dean wanted to help his friend get back to his angel-status as much as the next guy, he found that he enjoyed spending time just hanging out with him, and he wasn't exactly eager to give that up. He actually kind of liked caring for Castiel; making him soup, tending to his injuries, distracting him and making him laugh whenever he got that serious look that meant he was thinking about Heaven a little too much. Not to mention, he had to teach him all about being human.

Eating and sleeping were the easy parts, but other things had been a bit more complicated. The first time Castiel had to use the bathroom absolutely terrified him. However, he managed to figure it out without making things too uncomfortable for Dean, who despite his uncontrollable laughter was extremely relieved that he didn't have to get too hands-on in that area.

Castiel had also started picking up on little things, like body language, especially with Dean. He could tell when the hunter was being sarcastic or genuine, when he was excited or tired or irritated. And when he was upset, Castiel learned not to ask. Just to be there and offer his silent support.

The more time he spent with Dean, the more his feelings for the man grew. He wasn't sure if he should do anything about them, and even if he wanted to he didn't know how, so he just tried not to think about it. But that was getting more and more difficult.

Castiel spooned some noodles into his mouth and watched out of the corner of his eye as Dean set aside his now empty plate and stretched his arms up lazily, laughing at some joke on the tv show. The muscles in his torso rippled under his thin t-shirt and Castiel tried as best as he could not to stare. But when Dean casually leaned back and placed an arm around his shoulders, Castiel couldn't help looking over at him with wide eyes, his mouth falling open.

Dean caught his gaze, a shocked expression on his face, as if he was just as surprised by what he had done. He hurriedly looked away again and started to take his arm back, muttering an apology under his breath.

Castiel caught his hand before Dean could move away and tugged until it was back around him, offering a timid smile, which the hunter immediately returned in full. He settled back down and Castiel shifted a little so that he was pressed against Dean's side, soaking up the warmth emanating from him. It was just a friendly gesture, he told himself, trying to suppress the small part of him that hoped it was something more.

Castiel kept eating his noodles and watching the show, though he wasn't paying much attention anymore. He was distracted, listening to the other man's steady breathing and feeling his chest rise and fall against him. Although Castiel hated being so weak, so human, he decided it might be worth it just for these moments he got to spend with his hunter by his side.

"C'mon Sam, please," Gabriel begged, leaning across the desk to snatch the heavy book out of the younger Winchester's hands. "There's no way this old thing is more interesting than me!"

"I'm trying to help Cas," Sam snapped, reaching to get his book back. "You could help too, you know."

Gabriel held the thick volume high, tauntingly, just out of the big man's reach. "I've been helping. Just take a short break with me. Please?" he asked again, making caramel colored puppy dog eyes and pouting.

"And do what? Go watch Dr. Sexy with the star-crossed lovers?" Sam smirked. "No thanks."

Gabriel huffed in annoyance. He'd been trying to get Sam's attention for way too long now; he wasn't used to being ignored like this. He wasn't sure why he wanted the hunter's attention so badly, but he didn't stop to think too hard about it. He turned it into a game – Let's-See-How-Long-It-Takes-To-Make-Sam-Winchester -Snap – but really, he was the one about to run out of patience.

"We could go somewhere," the archangel offered. "Just get outta here for a while. The fresh air might do us both some good."

Sam sat back in his chair and crossed his arms across his broad chest. He stared Gabriel down for a few long seconds before finally sighing, "Where exactly are we gonna go?"

The smile Gabriel beamed at him almost hurt his eyes. "I'll surprise you!"

Before he could get out a word of protest, two fingers were pressed against his forehead and he felt the familiar sensation of angel flight; his stomach churned and he was lightheaded and dizzy, but his feet landed on solid ground almost immediately. Well, not quite solid... more like...

"Are we on a beach?" Sam asked in disbelief. He took in the hot sand under his feet, the high, jagged rocks that encircled the two of them, and the stretch of crystal clear water that seemed to extend endlessly into the horizon. It was breathtaking, vibrant shades of blue and green and white and brown, a perfectly picturesque scene. But, being Sam Winchester, he couldn't just enjoy it. "Cas is at Bobby's completely graceless, and you wanted to take the time to come to a beach?"

"Lighten up, kiddo," Gabriel chuckled as he patted the big man on the shoulder. "Relax a little. Spiaggi Rosa is one of my favorites, I know you'll love it." He threw his arms up and ran off toward the waves rolling up on the soft, white sand, sporting nothing but a pair of swimming trunks.

Sam sighed heavily. He needed to be back at Bobby's, researching, finding answers, helping his friend. Although, looking around at the beautiful scenery, he supposed taking a break with Gabe for a little while wouldn't be too bad. Castiel was back with Dean, and they seemed cozy enough to be there for a while on their own just fine. The water looked extremely inviting, and he found himself laughing as he watched the archangel frolic in the gentle waves.

"C'mon, Sammy!" he called out, jumping up and diving back down into the salty spray.

Sam took off running, stripping down to his boxers to join his friend, actually a little grateful that he could forget the worries hanging over his head for a moment and have some fun.

Not too long after that, the big man found himself sprawled out on his back in the sand, letting the gentle breeze blow through his unruly, tangled mop of golden hair. He sighed contentedly and cracked one eye open to glance at the equally relaxed body laying on its side next to him.

Gabriel twirled a finger in the sand, grabbing a handful and letting the grains fall between his fingers. He cleared his throat. "Sam, I gotta tell you something."

"Yeah?"

"About Cassie's grace..."

Sam propped himself up on his elbows and raised a questioning eyebrow. "Go on..."

The archangel bit his lip before continuing, avoiding eye contact. "I have it."

"You what?!" the hunter exclaimed angrily, moving to sit up straighter. "For how long? And you didn't tell me? You didn't tell Cas?!"

"Hey hey, easy man, lemme explain." Gabriel placed a cautioning hand on Sam's chest to hold him down. His honey colored eyes still evaded the hunter's accusatory stare. "He's doing okay, yeah? He's with Dean. I wanted to... I dunno, he seems happy, ya know? Being with him. I thought it would be good for them to get closer. With their profound bond, or whatever." He kept his other hand buried in the sand, fidgeting uneasily, acting very unlike his usual cocky self.

"Why do you care?" Sam asked. "It's not like that has anything to do with you."

"He's my brother," Gabriel said sharply, finally meeting Sam's gaze. "I care."

"He's not used to being human, Gabe. He's hurting."

"And Dean is taking care of him. He's fine! It's fine. Just, let him be. For a little while longer. Anyway, don't tell me you don't see it," the archangel added with a smirk.

"See what?"

"The chemistry between those two? The tension? The eye fucking?" He wiggled his eyebrows.

"Oh, gross," Sam said with an eyeroll and a laugh, laying back down on the sand and shoving Gabriel's hand away playfully. "Seriously though, you're holding Castiel's grace hostage so he can be with Dean? That's a little extreme."

"Like I said, he's fine. Being human for a little while never hurt anybody," Gabriel dismissed him with a wave of his hand.

"When are you gonna give it back?"

"When they get their heads out of their asses and have se–"

"Okay! Really, enough with the mental pictures already," Sam groaned. He rolled over onto his stomach, exposing his chiseled back dotted with sand that had stuck to his skin. Gabriel couldn't seem to tear his eyes away from the tanned muscles glistening in the sunlight. He had never seen Sam shirtless before, and he decided it was a damn shame that the hunter kept such a well toned body hidden under his clothes all the time. It was no secret that he'd had his own escapades between the sheets with men, but he had never seen someone who looked so pure and raw, so defined. He wanted to reach out and touch, feel the silky skin on his fingertips, revel in the strength of the hunter's muscles as he moved...

"Dude, are you listening?"

Gabriel was snapped out of his reverie. "Huh?"

"I said," Sam huffed, "we should probably go on back to Bobby's. They're gonna realize we're gone."

The archangel didn't want to leave his tropical paradise with his hunter – he realized that Castiel may not be the only one with a Winchester fixation – but he reluctantly agreed. He gently reached around and pressed his fingers to Sam's forehead, zapping them back to the study, dried off and (unfortunately) fully clothed. Sam took a second to steady himself and register where he was.

Glancing over at the piles of books and papers littering the wooden desk, Gabriel smirked, "At least you can lay off the reading, eh?"

"Yeah," Sam agreed with a sigh. "I can finally catch up on some sleep now." He turned to leave the room, but paused and looked back over his shoulder, brushing gold strands of hair out of his eyes. "Thanks, for uh, taking me out there today. It was fun." The corners of his mouth turned up in a small smile.

"Anytime, Sammy boy." Gabriel shrugged his shoulders as if it was nothing, but his wide grin betrayed how much those words meant to him. His caramel colored eyes gazed deep into hazel ones for a long moment before the hunter finally turned around and left.

Sam made his way to the panic room downstairs, where he shrugged off his jacket and kicked off his boots before climbing into the bed. He laid on his back, crossing his ankles and moving his hands behind his head as he closed his eyes and let his mind wander.

He wondered what he was going to do about Castiel's grace; if he should tell Dean, or Bobby, or even Cas, or if he should just let Gabriel do whatever the hell he wanted to. Knowing the ex-trickster, that would happen no matter what, Sam thought with a chuckle. Dean and Castiel did have a little chemistry, he guessed, now that he thought about it. He had never even considered his brother being into guys, being the chick magnet that he was, but he honestly didn't really care either way. Whatever made him happy. If that just so happened to be an angel in a trench coat, well good for him.

Rolling over onto his side, Sam nestled into the sheets, taking a deep breath and relaxing his shoulders. He kept picturing the beach; the cool water, the gentle breeze, the breathtaking view, Gabriel glowing in the warm sunlight... He wouldn't mind going back sometime. Hell, he wouldn't mind staying there forever. He was thankful that the archangel had taken him out somewhere calm and peaceful, just the two of them. Relaxing wasn't something he got to do very often anymore, and he had felt so completely blissed out. As he slipped slowly into visions of white sand and blue waves, a pair of caramel colored eyes found their way into his dreams, and he thought for a moment that maybe it wasn't as much the scenery as it was the company that had made him feel so at home.

Dean hummed to himself as he rifled through his duffel bag for a clean pair of jeans. He finally found a pair without any holes, dirt, or bloodstains and tossed them behind him onto the makeshift cot he had thrown together for Castiel in one of Bobby's empty rooms upstairs. He then pulled out a faded and wrinkled Led Zeppelin t-shirt and held it up, taking a good long look before deciding that even if it hung down to Castiel's knees, it would have to work. He zipped his duffel back up and was just about to go downstairs to grab a beer when he heard a frantic voice call him from the bathroom.

"Dean!"

He ran down the hallway and flung open the door, immediately overwhelmed with the wave of heat and steam pouring out of the running shower. Trying to bat it away from his face with one hand, he reached out with the other and called out, "Cas?"

"Dean," Castiel squeaked from the far side of the bathroom. He was standing just outside of the shower and had somehow tangled himself up in the shower curtain. Bits of soap were stuck in his dark hair and he was soaking wet, dripping water all over the floor. His frightened blue eyes looked up at Dean helplessly through the steam. "Help."

Dean couldn't help himself; he burst out laughing. It looked as if Castiel had picked a fight with the shower and lost – miserably. He made his way across the bathroom and reached around the poor guy to turn off the running water before helping to unwrap him from the curtain. "How the hell did you manage this?" he asked, wiping tears from his eyes, still chuckling heartily.

"I don't know," Castiel sighed. "This isn't funny, Dean. I don't know what to do!"

"Calm down, you're fine, I just gotta... Jesus, Cas, you really tied yourself up in this thing." Dean grunted as he tugged hard on the curtain. Finally it gave, falling away onto the floor, leaving Castiel completely exposed.

Tension immediately thickened the air between the two. Dean froze, face instantly flushed with red and his green eyes widened before darting away from the naked man in front of him. "Sorry... I uh... didn't mean to um..."

Castiel noticed the hunter's growing embarrassment, and though he felt none of his own, he hurriedly stooped to pull the curtain back up and wrapped it around his waist. "It's okay." He ran slender fingers through his hair and then looked at his now soap-covered hand, tilting his head slightly. "I'm soapy."

Dean let out a breath he didn't know he was holding before looking back at the fallen angel with a nervous laugh. "You think you can rinse off without wrestling the shower curtain this time?" he teased, trying to ease the tension with humor, though he was apparently the only one who felt it.

"Yes, I will try," Castiel replied with a sincere nod. "Thank you, Dean."

"Yeah, sure. And uh, I laid out some clothes in the other room for when you're done," Dean added as he turned to leave. "They might be a little big, but I can send Sam out to get you some that fit if you want." He smiled meekly at Castiel before hurrying out of the bathroom and closing the door behind him.

Once back in the hallway, Dean leaned his back against the wall and took a couple deep breaths. Thoughts were running through his mind at a mile a minute, all of them questions, none of which he had the answers to. Why was his heart beating so fast? Why did he feel so lightheaded? And why did that close encounter with Castiel – a very male Castiel – turn him on so freaking much?

Jimmy Novak was an attractive man. A little on the small side, but he was very well proportioned, and his defined jawline was something anybody could appreciate. He had lean muscle that rippled beneath pale skin as he moved, which he always did fluidly and gracefully. Dean had never seen the angel in anything other than that trench coat, but the image of the flawless figure was already tattooed into his retinas from just that brief moment. With closed eyes, he imagined being back in the bathroom, standing in front of Castiel, admiring him from top to bottom. Starting at his shoulders, moving down slowly, taking in the powerfully built torso... and Christ, those hipbones! Dean didn't dare go any lower than that, not even in his mind, forcing his eyes open and having to slow his breathing again.

He looked down and, dear God, he hoped the angel hadn't noticed his raging hard on through his jeans. Admittedly, it was a little hard to miss. He rubbed his face in his hands and tilted his head back until it hit the wall, letting out a quiet groan. Dean Winchester, well renowned ladies man, could not be gay. Especially not for an angel. Wouldn't that be blasphemy or something?

Besides, it was probably just frustration. He hadn't been with a woman in weeks, or could it even have been months? He honestly couldn't remember. With a final deep breath, he decided that he would drive out to the local bar and let off some steam that evening. Trying to focus on getting rid of his unwelcome boner, he pushed himself off the wall and went downstairs.

Passing by the study, Dean did a double take, peeking his head around the corner. "Gabriel? Where's Sam?" He looked around the room and furrowed his brow as he caught a whiff of something different... kind of smelled like... the ocean. Strange.

The archangel looked at him over his feet, which were propped up on Bobby's desk. He pulled the cherry red lollipop out of his mouth slowly, rolling it on his bright pink tongue before replying, "He's taking a break. Poor kid has to sleep sometime."

"You guys get anywhere with the grace thing?"

"Nah, but we're still looking, don't worry," Gabriel lied through his teeth. It wasn't really that hard for him, being a trickster and all. Besides, Dean didn't look too disappointed. In fact, the hunter's green eyes seemed to light up a little bit. He smirked. He was so right about this whole 'profound bond' thing.

"Alright well, lemme know if I can help," said Dean as he continued on his way to the kitchen.

He grabbed a beer from the fridge and headed into the living room, where he settled into his usual spot on the couch. Twirling the remote in his fingers, he flipped through channels looking for something worth wasting some time on. He paused on some soap opera so he could open up his beer and take a swig.

"Dean," came a voice from behind him.

The hunter turned and almost choked on his drink. Castiel stood in the doorway of the living room, dressed in the clothes that had been laid out for him. Bare feet peeked out from under a pair of too-big jeans that sagged suggestively low on his hips. The faded Led Zeppelin t-shirt hung off his shoulders, but the thin fabric clung to him and his curves. His dark, messy hair was still a little damp and a few water droplets slid down the sides of his neck, collecting in the hollow between his collarbones. He looked... really, really sexy.

Dean just stared, mouth hanging open in a small o, beer bottle held loosely in his fingertips.

Castiel cleared his throat. "I'm clean," he stated.

Dean inhaled sharply, but still found himself unable to look away, wide green eyes raking over the fallen angel's body. "Yeah," he breathed. Suddenly, his mind snapped to attention and he realized what he was doing, quickly looking down at his feet. "Good," he added gruffly before taking another swig of his beer and leaning back on the couch, trying to be nonchalant about the pillow he was pulling over onto his lap. Dear God, he hoped Castiel was still clueless enough to not understand what had just happened.

Maybe he was a little more sexually frustrated than he thought. Or a lot more. His trip to the bar that evening just couldn't come fast enough.

Dean felt the couch dip under Castiel's weight as he sat down beside the hunter. He felt the piercing blue eyes on him, but refused to meet them with his own. Instead, he cleared his throat and stammered nervously, "You can take it off. I mean, turn! Turn it off. The tv. Cause, uh, I'm not watching it."

"Are you alright, Dean?" Castiel asked concernedly. He started to raise a hand to the other man's forehead, but Dean shied away from his touch.

"Yeah, fine. I'm fine."

Castiel pulled his hand back and rested it in his lap. He looked down and twirled his thumbs around each other, wondering what he could have done to upset his hunter so much. It must have been the shower. Dean saw him without any clothes, and it made him uncomfortable. If he had just kept a hold on that infuriatingly slippery bar of soap then maybe –

"I'm going out," Dean said suddenly before standing up and marching out of the room. Castiel's stomach dropped when he heard the front door close behind him.

With a heavy sigh, the fallen angel stretched out and laid down on the couch, resting his head on a pillow. He pulled the neck of the t-shirt he was wearing up to his face and breathed in deeply. It still smelled like Dean; aftershave, motor oil, and his own unique scent that was wildly intoxicating to Castiel. If he closed his eyes he could almost believe that he was back in the hunter's arms, laying on his chest, falling asleep to the sound of his heartbeat.

"Another drink, handsome?"

Dean blinked out of his reverie and looked up at the bartender, who was leaning over the counter and eying him predatorily. She tilted her head so she could gaze at him with bright, sparkling eyes from under dark red bangs, biting her lower lip and raising an eyebrow suggestively.

"Yes ma'am," replied Dean in a low voice, smirking slightly. They had been flirting shamelessly since he arrived, just a few words back and forth at a time. He drained the last few drops from his glass as he watched her bend over to get the bottle.

"Anything else I can get you?" Her voice was almost a purr as she refilled his glass. Her fingers brushed against his lightly and dark eyes stared deep into his.

"Actually, I can think of a few things," Dean said softly, leaning in close, keeping up the staring contest. He had played this game more times than he could count, and he could tell that he already had her right where he wanted her.

"I get off at ten," she murmured, and he could feel her breath on his lips, they were that close. "Don't move." With a wink and a smile, she leaned back and turned to tend to the rest of the men lined up at the bar drinking themselves into a stupor.

Dean raised his glass and took a sip. He didn't know how long he'd been sitting here or how many drinks he'd had, but the familiar burn of alcohol in the back of his throat just wasn't enough to clear his mind this time. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't stop thinking about it – about him. Castiel.

He closed his eyes and fought back the images of the angel in his clothes, mussed hair and cheeks tinged pink from the heat of the shower. Jeans hanging low on his hips, and he just knew those sinful hipbones were peeking out above the waistline, even though he couldn't see them because they were covered by the too-big t-shirt. His t-shirt. That made him smile, for some reason.

But back to the hipbones... and the protruding collarbones, and the defined muscles, and the thin trail of dark hair that led down, down to where Dean hadn't dared to look...

The hunter took a deep breath and forced his eyes open, shifting slightly in his seat to relieve the uncomfortable pressure in his groin. He downed the rest of his drink in one go and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before pulling out his phone and checking the time. Still had forty-five minutes to kill before he could get out of here with the bartender. He groaned; he needed relief now.

He motioned at the bartender and she walked back over to him, reaching for the same bottle he had been drinking from all night, but he shook his head and said in a hoarse voice, "No, not that. Strongest thing you got."

She quirked an eyebrow at him, but turned and pulled a tall bottle of clear liquid from the shelf behind her and filled his glass wordlessly. Before she could replace it, he added, "Leave the bottle."

"You sure about that, sweetie?" she asked, still trying to be flirtatious but unable to mask the concern in her voice. At Dean's terse nod, she leaned over and rested her elbows on the bar in front of him. "Seems like you got a lot on your mind, huh?"

Dean snorted. "You read me like a book."

"Wanna talk about it?"

"I don't even know your name, and you wanna know my deepest darkest secrets?"

"Not your deepest darkest ones, just the ones on the surface," the bartender joked back. "I'm Luann."

"I'm Dean," he replied before taking a long drink from his glass, grimacing as he swallowed.

"So what is it, then? Your job? Family? Girlfriend?" Luann asked.

Dean let out a hollow chuckle. "Not one to beat around the bush, are ya? None of the above."

"Boyfriend?" she pressed, wiggling her eyebrows up and down.

"No," Dean said quickly, but his cheeks immediately flushed bright red and he looked down at his hands, causing Luann's eyes to widen.

She opened and closed her mouth a few times, at a loss of something to say, before finally regaining her composure and asking quietly, "Did you guys have a fight?"

"No! We didn't – there isn't – we're not together," Dean rushed out.

"But you like him." It wasn't a question. When Dean flashed her a what-the-hell look, Luann grinned, "I'm not an idiot. Why else would you be all upset? Does he know you like him like that?"

Dean's mouth hung open and he just stared in shock. He was not about to have a chick-flick conversation about his feelings with some random girl he met in a bar. That was just wrong on so many levels. There was no way... But somehow, he found himself answering her question, unable to stop himself from shaking his head no.

"Well that's it then, you dumbass," Luann huffed, smacking him on the head as if they were old friends. The action reminded him a little of Ellen. "You gotta tell him how you feel, or you're never gonna get with him. You can't just sit around and wait for him to make the first move if he doesn't even know you like him." She rolled her eyes as if it were obvious.

"But he's not... I'm not... I'm straight," Dean finally managed to get out.

It was Luann's turn to laugh. "Right. You're just the poster child of heterosexuality, sitting in a bar, drowning yourself in booze to forget about your unrequited love for another man."

Dean glared at her. "It's not love," he snapped.

"Whatever," she dismissed him with a wave of her hand. "My professional advice to you? Go get him, tiger."

Dean rolled his eyes, reaching for the bottle to refill his now empty glass, but Luann snatched it away before he could wrap his fingers around it. "Uh-uh, you've had enough for tonight, I think."

With another glare, Dean snarled, "What are you, my babysitter?"

"No, I'm your friend." Luann flashed her teeth at him in a warm smile and added, "Instead of letting you get even more drunk, I'm telling you, go get your man and live happily ever after, okay?"

"Right away, your highness," Dean grumbled, gazing sadly at the bottom of his glass.

"It's a shame," Luann continued, "I really thought I was gonna get to take you home tonight, too. He's a lucky one, your guy."

"He's not 'my guy'," Dean muttered, rolling his eyes, but he seemed to finally give in. He stood up and pulled a couple bills out of his wallet before handing them over to Luann. "Thanks, I guess."

"See you around," she winked, pocketing the money and flashing him another grin. "Good luck."

"Yeah, yeah." As he left the bar and headed toward the Impala, he sighed heavily. How the hell had a random stranger cornered him into a conversation like that? At least he'd been alone, so no one else could make fun of him for it, but still.

And he hadn't even gotten laid. So he would have to go back to Bobby's, back to Castiel, wearing Dean's t-shirt and Dean's jeans, and pretend like he wasn't so turned on he could come in his pants just from looking at him. He slammed his fist down on the dashboard and let out a groan.

It was going to be a long night.


	3. Chapter 3

Dean stumbled up the front porch steps and through the door to Bobby's house. The lights in the front hall were off, but he could hear the sound of the tv coming from the living room, so he tossed his keys onto the table and shrugged out of his jacket before making his way in.

"There you are," Sam greeted him. "Where were..." He trailed off when he noticed how Dean was swaying slightly and quirked an eyebrow. "You're drunk."

Dean waved his hand and shrugged. He avoided looking at Sam, who was sprawled out in Bobby's old recliner with Gabriel perched on the arm next to him. He also avoided looking at Castiel, who was curled up on the couch and undoubtedly gazing up at him with those piercing blue eyes. Instead, he looked down at the floor, focusing on standing up straight without falling over. It was a miracle he had managed to drive home without totaling the Impala.

"Gonna go upstairs," he mumbled, turning around and leaving before his brother could say anything back. He needed to get out of there – even in his current state, he knew being in the same room with the very man who was the reason he was so intoxicated wasn't such a great idea.

He made his way to the room he had set up for Castiel and kicked off his boots before flopping down onto the small cot on his stomach. He nuzzled into the pillow and inhaled deeply. Despite how much he himself reeked of alcohol, it smelled good; it smelled like Castiel. Somehow it was comforting to think that he was in the same bed the angel had slept in for the past few nights.

He was in Castiel's bed. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was just because he was messed up in the head, but the thought instantly made him hard. He groaned softly into the pillow as he felt his cock thickening, and he reached down and pressed the heel of his palm into the bulge in his pants to get some relief, but it wasn't enough. Without even thinking about it, he rolled over and unzipped his jeans, tugging down the waistband of his boxer briefs and wrapping his fist around his cock. He sucked in a sharp breath at his own touch and swiped his thumb over the head, smearing the pre-come that was already leaking out along his length before slowly pumping his hand up and down, moaning at the friction. His left hand fisted in the sheets and he threw his head back, already breathing heavily after just a few minutes.

Images of Castiel, dripping wet and naked, danced behind his closed eyelids. The smooth chest, the muscled stomach, the hipbones that jutted out alongside the trail of curls that led down to between his strong, lithe legs...

Dean felt the warmth pooling in his lower abdomen and moaned again, jerking harder at his cock, twisting his wrist at the tip. He breathed heavily, inhaling the smell of his own sex and alcohol and Castiel, and he briefly pictured a flash of electric blue eyes before he was coming, biting his tongue to keep from crying out, spurting his release all over his fist and his shirt. He stroked himself a few more times before stilling and trying to catch his breath, freeing the sheets from his vice-like grip and running his left hand through his short, spiky hair.

Finally opening his eyes, he blinked through the darkness for another minute before tucking himself back into his pants and peeling off his shirt, cleaning himself off and then tossing it into the corner. He rolled back onto his stomach and pulled the sheet over himself. He felt like a horny teenager, all frustration and desire, jerking himself off embarrassingly quickly.

He yawned and nestled into the blankets, trying in vain not to think of his fallen angel as he fell slowly into a deep, dreamless sleep.

"What the fuck, man, let me go," Sam laughed as he tried to push Gabriel off of him. The archangel had his legs crossed over Sam's lap, keeping him from standing up as he nonchalantly munched on a chocolate bar.

"Eh, maybe later," he replied, a mischievous glint in his eyes. He was enjoying this way too much. Earlier while they were watching tv, he had hitched his legs up over the hunter, who hadn't seemed to mind at all. In fact, he was acutely aware of how Sam actually relaxed under him and absentmindedly played with the seam of his jeans, occasionally stroking his legs contentedly while keeping his gaze trained on the flickering screen. Gabriel's breathing had quickened – a strange reaction, considering angels didn't even really need to breathe – and when the hunter had tried to stand up, he kept his legs firmly planted, playing up his superhuman strength to keep him down, because in all honesty, he just didn't want it to end.

"Seriously, c'mon," Sam begged, giving Gabriel his best puppy-dog eyes. "I'm tired. Please?"

Gabriel just stared back with an amused expression on his face as he took another bite of chocolate. Puppy-dog eyes or not, he wasn't giving in. It was just way too much fun.

Eventually, the hunter sighed heavily and leaned back into the chair. "Fine, whatever," he grumbled angrily, though Gabriel could tell he wasn't really mad at him. He crossed his arms, resting his elbows on Gabriel's knees, and closed his eyes. "I'll just sleep here."

Gabriel turned his attention back to the crappy tv show they were watching, expecting to go back to fighting in a few minutes, but when he glanced back over at Sam he was, in fact, fast asleep. His full lips were parted slightly and a strand of golden hair had fallen over his eyes. He had slumped over and was resting his head lightly against the archangel's hip. Gabriel was mesmerized by how peaceful and relaxed he looked, and he wanted to reach out and run his fingers over the soft skin on Sam's cheek, but he stopped himself, remembering his brother sitting a few feet away on the couch.

Speaking of Castiel, he noted that he seemed even more reserved than usual. He suspected that it had something to do with the older Winchester's drunken absence, but he knew better than to ask. Instead, he opted to step into the role of the caring older brother, one that he didn't play very often but when he did could rival Dean in his protective instincts. "You tired, man?"

"Yes," Castiel replied quietly from his position curled into a ball at the far end of the couch.

"Go on upstairs and get some sleep," Gabriel suggested, "might do ya some good."

"I suppose." Castiel stretched out his legs and stood, swaying slightly on his feet. He made his way unsteadily across the room and Gabriel reached out a hand and caught his slender wrist as he passed by.

"You okay buddy?" He asked warily, studying Castiel's face.

Castiel didn't respond; he just stared down at his brother with heavy blue eyes for a long moment, communicating all of the things he didn't have words to say. Gabriel nodded in understanding and released the grip on his wrist, allowing Castiel to walk away.

He turned his thoughts and his gaze back to Sam, who was still resting against him. The corners of his mouth turned up in a small smile as he watched the hunter's powerful chest rise and fall with his deep, even breathing. He was breathtaking; Gabriel had known it for a long time, but he never had the chance to really look at him before. He thought back to the beach from earlier that morning. The sculpted body that Sam had built was downright sinful, every strong muscle sharply defined under silky, tanned skin. But even that wasn't the part that made his heart skip a beat; no, it was the blinding smile, the boyish dimples, the melodic, hearty laugh that meant that Sam Winchester was really, truly happy.

It was rare, it was beautiful, and it made Gabriel unbelievably proud that he had caused it. He wanted to make Sam happy more than anything now, felt like it was his job. Oh no, I'm turning into Cas, he thought with a groan. But if he was being honest with himself, he didn't really care.

Gabriel gently lifted Sam's head in his palm and swung his legs over so he could stand. He then pulled the hunter into his arms, picking him up and cradling the giant man against his chest as if he were a small child. He laughed to himself – he doubted even the strongest person with simple human strength could carry such a huge guy as Sam, and it probably looked ridiculous for his small vessel to be doing such a thing. He walked carefully downstairs to the panic room, where he knew Sam would be the most comfortable. Stepping over the threshold, he silently thanked Bobby for allowing them to remove the wards against angels, at least for as long as he had two staying with him, watching over his boys. He laid Sam down on the bed and covered him with the thin blanket, smiling again as Sam snuggled into the pillow.

"Sweet dreams," he whispered before disappearing off to someplace far away to be alone with his thoughts until his hunter woke.

Castiel stood in the doorway of his room, looking down at Dean, who was sprawled out on his little cot. He didn't realize that he had fallen asleep up here, and though he was exhausted, he didn't want to wake Dean up and make him move. Instead, he crawled up onto the cot beside Dean and laid down in the small sliver of space between the hunter and the wall, barely able to fit comfortably. He was pressed against Dean's side and could feel him breathing, ribs expanding into his side with every breath. He reached out a tentative hand and rested it on Dean's bare stomach, rubbing small circles with his thumb.

Dean stirred, taking in a sharp breath and Castiel froze, unsure of what the hunter's reaction would be if he woke up. But he didn't; he remained fast asleep as he rolled over and curled into Castiel's chest, throwing an arm around his hips lazily and sighing contentedly.

Castiel knew that it would be a compromising position to wake up in, but he didn't care. He rested his head on one arm – Dean had probably tossed the pillow onto the floor in his sleep – and wrapped the other one around the sleeping man's bare shoulders, pulling him closer into his body. He still wasn't sure what he had done to upset Dean earlier, and he would most likely have to deal with that in the morning, but for now he could enjoy a peaceful night's rest in the embrace of his hunter. He could imagine that Dean wasn't drunk, wasn't already unconscious, wasn't unaware of their intimacy. He could imagine that Dean wanted this as much as he did, that Dean cared about him as much as he cared for Dean.

Castiel closed his eyes and breathed in, smelling alcohol on the surface but underneath, something that was uniquely and unmistakeably Dean. The hot, bare skin against his own felt amazing, and he lost himself in the warm feeling spreading in his chest, allowing his mind to wander and dream of his hunter as he fell asleep.

Dean kept his eyes closed as he woke up slowly, not really wanting to be awake at all. His head was pounding, but thankfully that seemed to be the only part of his hangover he hadn't managed to sleep off. He swallowed thickly, the taste of the bar from last night still in his mouth, and remembered that he hadn't brushed his teeth or showered since yesterday morning. There was a slight chill against his back and he vaguely recalled tossing his shirt somewhere across the room, but his chest and stomach were flush against something soft and warm, which he cuddled closer to, tightening the hold he had on it with one arm.

All of a sudden he realized – he was holding onto a person. He blinked a couple times, adjusting to the bright light coming in from the window, before tilting his head up to look into a pair of wide blue eyes staring back at him.

He yelped in surprise and pushed himself away, rolling away and just barely catching himself before falling off of the cot onto the floor. He was not just cuddling, much less cuddling with Castiel. Hell no, there was no way that just happened. His mouth hung open and his green eyes were almost perfect circles; he looked like a deer in headlights. Incoherent sounds came from somewhere in his throat, but he was having a difficult time forming them into words.

"I... uh... wha... sorry," he stammered.

Castiel gazed up at him from under messy dark hair, looking almost sad for some reason. "Dean, wait –" He reached out a pale hand and grabbed the hunter's wrist as he scrambled to get his legs untangled from the sheets, "Don't go."

Dean just stared, speechless. Castiel's touch was like a red hot iron on his wrist, and he could feel the furious blush spreading on his cheeks despite his efforts to prevent it. It wasn't as if they hadn't been intimate before; it was practically the first thing that happened when the angel miraculously appeared at Bobby's to begin with. But that was on a couch when Castiel was hurting, and this was in a bed without any type of excuse. It was too much for Dean, who had somehow let his feelings get out of control, who had gotten wasted last night in a desperate attempt to avoid thinking about Castiel, but had nonetheless freaking jacked off to thoughts about him just a few short hours ago.

Castiel was the one who broke the awkward, tense silence. He released his grip on Dean's wrist, though he maintained the unblinking eye contact. "Dean, I do not know what I did to upset you yesterday, but I apologize. I do not wish for you to feel uncomfortable." He tore his eyes away and looked down at his hands, which were nervously tugging at the blanket. He took in a jagged breath before continuing, "If this is about what happened with the shower yesterday, I am very sorry, and I can promise that it won't happen again. I understand if you feel that –"

"Cas," Dean breathed, finally able to find his voice, "stop. I'm not mad at you or anything, especially not because of... I just... Christ, why would you even think that?"

"Because you left me yesterday," Castiel replied softly, looking back up at him.

The raw openness he saw in those deep pools of blue broke Dean's heart. He shook his head and started to reach out a hand, but stopped short and let it fall down to the bed. "I didn't leave you, Cas. I was just tired, and... I needed a drink, so I went out. But I wasn't leaving you. I would never. You're my friend, man."

Saying that word – friend – made Dean's stomach churn. It reminded him of all of the messed up feelings he had last night and the reason he had gotten so wasted in the first place. Friends don't get their rocks off to thoughts of their friends naked. That was so wrong.

He took a deep breath and stood up, turning away from Castiel and grabbing his duffel bag as he muttered, "Gonna go shower." Before stepping out into the hall, he paused and tilted his head back over his shoulder, just enough so that he could see Castiel out of the corner of his eye without really looking at him. "Okay?"

It was barely a question at all, but he knew Castiel would understand what he meant – are you okay, are we okay, do you understand, is everything good?

"Okay," he heard the low, gravelly voice say from behind him, affirming all of the above.

Dean nodded once and then headed off to the bathroom, not even remotely reassured by their brief conversation but satisfied, at least for the moment. When the bathroom door shut behind him, he leaned back against it and let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He turned the shower on and stripped out of his jeans and boxers, stepping into the cascade of water without waiting for it to warm up and feeling the goosebumps ripple over his skin as he was pelted by the icy spray. Not only would a cold shower help clear his mind, but it would also hopefully get rid of the embarrassing wood he'd gotten after waking up next to Castiel.

If he was being honest with himself, which he was trying more and more not to do lately, that was something he could really get used to. That first time on the couch when he woke up with his arms around Castiel, it felt so peaceful and right. That short nap was probably the best sleep he'd had in a long time. And this morning, in the split second of consciousness before his instincts told him to get the hell out of that bed, wrapped up in the angel's embrace, he had felt... happy. Really, really happy.

Dean had chalked up the protective, caring feelings he had for Castiel when he first arrived to their close friendship. The angel was the closest thing Dean had to family, besides Sam and Bobby. It was natural for him to want to take care of his friend when he was injured and in need.

But there was that word again – friend. If that's all Castiel was, it shouldn't have made Dean sick to his stomach, but it did. His head started spinning and he placed a hand against the tile wall to steady himself. It wasn't even the fact that just one look at Castiel made Dean hard enough to break concrete; no, it was something else, something warm and heavy and real in his chest that he didn't want to think about, for fear of admitting what it actually was.

Lifting his face back up and letting the water pour over his head, he took another deep breath before scrubbing himself down thoroughly with soap, as if washing the dirt from his skin could also cleanse the thoughts from his mind. And it worked, more or less. Dean stepped out of the shower and toweled off feeling a little better and a lot refreshed.

After pulling on a pair of jeans and a moderately clean t-shirt, he made his way downstairs to the kitchen, where he found Sam hard at work, clicking away on his laptop with Gabriel hovering over his shoulder.

"Ah, there he is," the archangel grinned. "How's the hangover?"

Dean shot him a dirty look as he pulled open the refrigerator and reached for a beer.

"Already back at it? And I thought you were a heavy drinker, Sam," Gabriel chided.

"Shut up, Gabriel," Dean rolled his eyes. "Whatcha workin' on, Sammy? Gotten anywhere with Cas's grace?"

Sam's eyes shifted uneasily to Gabriel before turning to his brother. He flashed him an apologetic grimace, "No, sorry."

Dean shrugged and took a sip from his bottle. "It's only been a couple days. Didn't expect you to find it right away, I guess."

Sam and Gabriel shared a knowing look while the older Winchester wasn't looking, and Sam couldn't help breaking into a small smile. "Don't worry, we're still trying."

Dean nodded. "Speaking of Cas –"

"When are you not speaking of Cas," Gabriel muttered under his breath, just loud enough for an amused Sam to hear.

"– has he come down yet?"

"Yeah, he's in the living room," Sam offered. He watched his brother jump up from his spot leaning on the counter and walk briskly into the living room before bursting out laughing. "Oh my god, he's got it so bad, Gabe."

"I told you he was overcompensating for something, I just never thought it would be my little brother," Gabriel replied and made a disgusted face, though his caramel eyes were sparkling with laughter. "I guess it's just a thing with angels. We're irresistible."

"Right, obviously," Sam said sarcastically. "Cause, ya know, I can barely contain myself from jumping you right now."

"Well then, I oughta turn up the charm a little, maybe we'd both get lucky tonight," Gabriel winked and wiggled his eyebrows. He was being outrageously bold and flashy about his flirting, but he couldn't tell if the hunter was actually interested or merely joking with him. It was really bothering him, too; for some reason he couldn't put his finger on, he really wanted Sam. He didn't know why, he didn't even remember when it started, he just knew he wanted those hazel eyes on him and those boyish dimples showing all the damn time.

Sam just laughed, though he had a twinkle in his eye of what Gabriel hoped was requited want. "Uh huh, definitely." He held Gabriel's gaze for a moment longer than necessary before turning back to his laptop, pretending not to notice the sudden tension that filled the air between the two.

"Hey, man." Dean tried to sound nonchalant, but his voice shook a little, betraying his nervousness and quickening heartbeat as he approached Castiel, who was sitting on the couch with his knees pulled in tight to his chest.

"Hello, Dean," Castiel replied evenly, looking up at the hunter.

"Whatcha watchin'?" Keeping a reasonable distance, Dean sank down onto the cushions and kicked his feet up onto the coffee table.

"I don't know," Castiel admitted, turning back to the tv and cocking his head slightly. "I haven't been paying much attention."

"Just background noise, huh?" Dean nodded before taking a swig from his bottle.

Castiel glanced at him from the corner of his eyes. "Are you drinking again already?"

"Oh, what is it with you angels? A man needs his beer in the morning," Dean huffed, though he set it down on the table anyway.

"I just thought after last night..." Castiel started, but when Dean immediately clenched his jaw, he quickly backtracked. "Never mind."

"No, it's okay," the hunter sighed and rolled his shoulders to relax himself. "I uh... That was bad judgment, on my part, I guess. Sorry."

"You don't have to apologize to me, Dean."

"No, not that... I'm sorry because you thought I was mad at you," Dean insisted, turning his body to face Castiel. "I really wasn't."

"I know." Those blue eyes stared deep into Dean, and he felt like the angel could see his soul. He almost wished he could – wished he could see all of the things Dean wanted so badly to tell him, but couldn't find the words, was too scared to say.

Dean just nodded and turned back to the tv screen, barely aware of what he was watching. His eyes were too glazed over to actually see anything anyway, and all he could hear was his own heartbeat, pounding at his ribcage like it was about to break free and run for the hills any second. Words were on the tip of his tongue, but he had to swallow them down and stop them from coming out because he wasn't even sure what he was going to say, he just knew it would be embarrassing and chick-flicky and he would regret it. So he said nothing for a long time, just sat there next to Castiel, not-really-watching tv.

After a while, he cleared his throat and asked, "How're you feeling?"

"Not bad today," Castiel replied. "I can sit against the back of a chair without hurting my back. And I looked in the mirror, and I think the bruises are starting to fade a little."

"That's great, Cas," Dean grinned. "We'll have you back to your regular mojo in no time."

"Has Sam found anything about my grace?" the ex-angel asked hopefully.

"Nah, sorry. He said they're still looking though, so I'm sure they'll find it soon." Dean wasn't sure why he felt a twinge of disappointment at those words, but he wasn't about to stop and think about it. Not after what happened yesterday, not after this morning, not when everything seemed back to normal between the two of them, however briefly.

Of course, Castiel kept it extremely brief, more so than Dean would have liked. After a moment of comfortable silence, he dove headfirst into the subject Dean had taken so much care to avoid all morning.

"Why did you leave last night, Dean?" he asked quietly.

"I told you, I needed a drink. And... I needed to get out, I guess," Dean admitted, rubbing the back of his neck with a calloused hand. "Just sitting here in the house all the time..."

"Being around me all the time," Castiel mumbled under his breath, a habit he had quickly picked up being around the constantly bickering Winchesters so much.

"No! It's not about you, it has nothing to do with you, Cas," Dean insisted.

"You only started acting different after you helped me with the shower. I know you, Dean. It made you uncomfortable and you're running from me."

"I'm not running from anything!" Dean cried exasperatedly. "You're fine, I'm fine, everything's fine, okay? I'm not acting different and I'm not 'uncomfortable' so just drop it!"

Castiel blinked back tears and turned his face away from the hunter. He just wanted to try and talk things out the way Sam and Dean did whenever they fought, but he ended up making it worse. He had no idea what he was supposed to do. What did he do wrong? How was he supposed to fix it if Dean wouldn't even admit that there was a problem? He didn't ever admit to needing help, not with hunts, not with Sam, not with anything. Castiel could only sit there and watch as he overwhelmed himself, handling everything alone even if it almost killed him. But he wasn't going to let that happen anymore.

Castiel glanced over at Dean, who had his beer bottle back in hand and was glaring unblinkingly at the tv. He was going to stand by Dean this time, was going to help him whether he liked it or not. He would fix this, somehow. He had to.


	4. Chapter 4

"This is getting ridiculous, Gabe. They're not even getting along anymore," Sam insisted in a hushed tone, leaning in close across the kitchen table. He motioned at his brother and Castiel, who were sitting rigidly on the couch in the next room, not speaking. "Look at them! Poor Cas, just give him his freaking grace back already. God knows I'd be sick of Dean after a few hours, much less days."

"All couples fight, Sammy." Gabriel wagged his finger in the hunter's face. "Just give 'em time."

"I'm not kidding, Gabriel." Sam's voice deepened and his hazel eyes darkened, warning signs to the archangel.

"Neither am I! Look, I'm trying to get them closer together, and dragging them apart because of a little tiff over Dean's alcohol issues isn't going to help."

"It's not a 'little tiff', they've been like this for the past two days! I swear, if you don't tell him by tonight, I will."

"What exactly do you want me to say? 'Oh hey, lil bro, I've been hiding your grace from you for the past week so you could get it in with Dean but since you've both got your heads too far up your asses to fuck already, I'll just give it back.' You see how ridiculous that sounds? I can't –"

"You what?"

Neither Sam nor Gabriel noticed the figure standing in the doorway of the kitchen until he spoke, eyebrows raised and mouth hanging open in shock. The empty beer bottle dangled dangerously from Dean's tensed fingertips, threatening to slip through and shatter on the floor.

"Shit," Sam cursed under his breath, jumping up from his seat at the table and putting his hands up defensively. "Dean, it's not what you think –"

"It's not?" the older Winchester spat angrily. "Because what I think is that for some godforsaken reason, you're holding Cas's grace hostage. And I sure as hell hope I'm wrong about this part, but for a second it actually sounded like you were trying to set us up. With each other." He set his jaw and clenched his fists, his left hand gripping the beer bottle so hard Sam worried he would break it. "What the actual fuck, Sam."

"Dean, listen to me for a second, okay?" Sam rushed out. "I just wanted to... I didn't... I mean –"

"Sam had nothing to do with it," Gabriel suddenly announced, getting to his feet as well, waving an arm through the air and stepping in front of Sam. "It was all me. Swear."

"Why?" Dean's tone was low and even, but as Sam watched from over the archangel's shoulder, he knew it was just the calm before the storm.

"Because he's my little brother, and I'm allowed to pull shit like that," Gabriel chuckled easily, as if it was all a big joke and he wasn't about to be ruthlessly ripped to shreds by Dean any second. "Look, man, it's all for your benefit too, if you'd just –"

"Don't you dare tell me it's for anybody's fucking benefit!" Dean shouted, throwing the bottle at Gabriel's face with deadly accuracy, and it smashed into pieces against the archangel's cheek, leaving a tangle of red gashes. "Cas is in pain! I've been doing everything I can to help him, thinking you assholes were actually trying to help out too, but no, you're sitting in here playing fucking matchmaker instead! This isn't a game, okay? Cas is part of my family, and fuck all if you two are going to make his life a living hell for a couple of laughs, and your own fucking benefit!" He reached out and grabbed whatever was in his reach; a lamp, a couple of empty glasses, and a plate that still had pizza crust on it from a few nights ago, all of which crashed against Gabriel in quick succession during his rant.

Dean marched up and got right in Gabriel's face, staring down at him with fury burning in his bright green eyes. He was breathing heavily and his cheeks were flushed red with anger. "Give. Me. The grace," he hissed.

Gabriel just laughed. "Back off, pretty boy, you made your point. I'll give it to him myself."

"No!" Dean yelled, catching the archangel by the throat before he could move away, keeping their faces mere inches apart. "Give it to me, now!"

"Fine, fine, calm down," Gabriel relented, putting up his hands in surrender. He reached into a pocket and pulled out a small glass cylinder on a chain, glowing dimly from within. "There, ya happy? Will you let me go now?"

Dean snatched the chain with his free hand, glaring at him mercilessly and tightening his fingers around the archangel's neck, though it had little to no effect except for a slight gagging sound that came from his throat. He then took a step back, but he didn't have any intention of just letting Gabriel go.

His arm trembled with effort to refrain from punching him; connecting his fist with the archangel's jaw would only result in a broken hand. Instead, he wheeled around and socked his brother in the face in one fluid motion, stunning both Gabriel and Sam, who doubled over from the impact and let out a pained groan.

Dean turned to face Gabriel and narrowed his eyes. "You stay away from Cas," he growled, "or I'll kill you." Glancing at his brother, he added, "Both of you."

The venom that dripped from his voice practically paralyzed Sam; he had never been on the receiving end of such fierce anger from Dean before, and he hoped never to experience it again. He had no idea when Dean had gotten so protective of Castiel, and it might have been endearing if it wasn't so completely terrifying.

Dean whirled around, grace in hand, and came face to face with a pair of startled blue eyes, filled with confusion. Castiel stood in the doorway of the kitchen, head cocked to the side.

"What is going on?" he asked in a low voice.

"Castiel, lemme explain," Gabriel started, but Dean cut him off.

"Shut the hell up!" he snapped. "You've done enough explaining."

"Dean, calm down," Castiel urged, placing a hand on his chest. Green eyes immediately flashed up to meet blue. "Tell me what happened."

"He had your grace the whole time," Dean cried angrily. "He was keeping it from you. And Sam knew about it, too!"

Castiel's eyes widened and his eyebrows furrowed. "I don't understand."

"Look!" Dean held up the small cylinder that contained Castiel's grace and thrust it into the angel's face. It looked like blue mist, swirling around and emitting a soft light.

It took a moment to sink in, but when it did, Castiel's eyes glazed over and his expression hardened, returning to the stoic look he always had as an angel but had somewhat lost during his short time as a human. He gently took the grace and cradled it in his palm.

In a voice so quiet it was almost a whisper, he shattered the tense silence that had fallen over the room. "Gabriel... is this true?"

"I'm sorry, Castiel." There was no point in denying it, or explaining it; the archangel knew that his brother could forgive him, but only in time. Definitely not right now. And definitely not with Dean planted firmly by his side, seething with anger.

"That's all you have to say? You're sorry?" the older Winchester gritted through his teeth.

"I am too, Cas," Sam added, hand on his aching jaw. "I wish I knew how to explain, but we –"

Castiel raised a hand to silence him, but said nothing, just looked away and slowly walked out of the room. When the front door clicked shut, signaling his exit from the house, a collective breath was let out by all three men remaining in the kitchen. Dean shot an icy glare over at Gabriel and Sam before hurrying after him.

Gabriel turned to Sam, eying the blood on his mouth with concern. "You want me to fix that?"

"Nah, leave it," the hunter sighed. "Dean'll just get more mad if you mojo it away."

"More mad? Is that even possible?" the archangel scoffed.

"He has a right to be," Sam pointed out. "I knew it was a bad idea, and now that it's all out in the open... That was a pretty shitty thing to do," he admitted, looking at the ground and shaking his head.

"But now those two morons will never realize their undying love for one another," Gabriel groaned with a smirk.

"Gabe, shut up, this isn't a joke anymore!" Sam snapped impatiently. "Dean's pissed off, God knows how Cas has gotta be feeling right now, and to be honest, I feel pretty awful too. This was your stupid idea and now I'm stuck in the middle of it so I'm not really in the mood to laugh about it."

The words hit Gabriel hard, like a punch in the gut. He knew Castiel would forgive him, and Dean he couldn't really care less about, but Sam? He never meant to hurt Sam, and knowing that he had instantly made him more remorseful than he had been in his entire life. If he thought he needed to right this wrong before, it was even more urgent now.

"I'm gonna fix this," he reassured the hunter determinedly. "Don't worry. I made this mess, and I'm gonna clean it up."

"Cas... Cas, wait!" Dean called, running after his friend, who was walking quickly away from the house. He slowed down enough to let the hunter catch up, but he didn't turn around. "Are you okay, man?"

"Please leave, Dean," Castiel pleaded.

Dean placed a hand on his shoulder and pulled him back so they were face to face. When he saw the tear rolling down Castiel's cheek, his eyebrows knitted together in concern. "Cas... I'm so sorry."

Castiel closed his eyes and drew in a shaky breath. "Don't apologize for something that isn't your fault."

"What can I do?" Dean asked, earnestly wanting to help in any way he could.

"Leave me alone," Castiel replied weakly, jerking his shoulder away and letting Dean's hand fall back to his side. He noted the look of hurt on the hunter's face, but saw him nod once in acquiescence and shut his eyes again, waiting until he heard footsteps crunching in gravel, creaking on the old wooden porch and then finally the front door of Bobby's house banging closed.

Dean leaned back against the door after he got inside, taking a deep breath and trying to calm his racing heart. He heard a faint shattering of glass and then saw the beginnings of a blinding light filtering in through the front windows before shielding his face with his forearm. By the time the light faded and he glanced back outside, Castiel had disappeared.

He ran a trembling hand through his hair. So many emotions were coursing through him, he couldn't even think straight. Red hot anger, confusion, loss, hurt, betrayal, all at once, clouding his mind and his vision. He was beyond furious with Gabriel and Sam, and Castiel was gone.

With a heavy sigh, Dean heaved himself up off the door and stumbled into Bobby's study to fetch the bottle of heavy duty whiskey the old man kept stashed in his cabinet. He slumped down in the chair and drank straight from the bottle, relishing the burn as the alcohol ran down his throat. Head leaned back against the chair, bottle settled securely in his lap, he set to work trying to forget how to feel anything at all.

A loud crash and the sound of swearing made Sam's head jerk up from where it rested on his arms. He rolled his eyes and stood up from his seat at the kitchen table, wandering over to the window and glancing outside. Barely visible through the darkness was a pair of jean-clad legs peeking out from underneath a beat up Chevy where Dean was hard at work. Sam tried to warn his brother that fixing up a car without any daylight wasn't such a great idea, but Dean brushed him off and continued on anyway.

It seemed as though that's all he had been doing since the fight; staying out in Bobby's salvage yard, tinkering with some piece of crap car, binging on beer and whiskey and whatever else he could get his hands on. Sam tried more than once to talk to him in the past three days, but Dean wouldn't have any of it. Instead he refused to acknowledge his brother's existence, focusing all his efforts on totaled cars and alcohol. Although Sam hated to see his brother running himself into the ground like that, he resigned himself to just letting the man have his way rather than pressuring him into a conversation; after all, he blamed himself for Dean's anger.

If Dean felt bad, Sam felt terrible. After the fight, both angels had disappeared, leaving the younger Winchester all alone and unable to handle the situation with Dean. He didn't have any kind of explanation that wouldn't just make everything worse, and besides that, he knew that keeping Castiel's grace hidden was a dick move even if it had been for a good reason. He just wished he knew how to get through to his brother and make him understand that he didn't have bad intentions; hell, it wasn't even his idea in the first place!

With a sigh, Sam turned away from the window and made his way downstairs to the panic room. He kicked off his boots and tugged off his jeans so he was just in boxers and a thin t-shirt. After a brief second of hesitation, he slid down onto his knees beside the bed and clasped his hands, lacing his fingers together. Eyes shut tight and brow furrowed, he bowed his head and strands of golden brown hair fell across his face.

"Gabriel... if you're listening, wherever you are... I need help, man. I don't know how to make this right. I..." He cleared his throat and desperately fought the tears that were threatening to escape from behind his closed eyelids. "Tell Cas I'm sorry. And whatever I need to do, I'll do it. I just want to fix this. I want... could you just... come back, Gabe. Please come back."

Sam choked out the last words before drawing in a jagged breath and wiping at his eyes. No wonder Dean teased him so much about being such a girl – he was crying over his own prayer. He rolled his eyes at himself as he stood to flick off the lamp and flopped down onto the bed, pulling the sheets over his broad shoulders and burying his face in the pillow. Thoughts of Gabriel dancing in clear ocean water, lounging on Bobby's couch, and gazing at him with honey colored eyes soothed him until sleep slowly took him over.

From a dark corner of the panic room, the archangel stood invisible, watching over his sleeping hunter. Not rushing to Sam's side at the first mention of his name, not holding him close and comforting him, not gently wiping his tears from his reddened cheeks, just standing there and watching and listening to that heartbreaking prayer had to be the hardest thing that Gabriel had ever done. He knew it was better this way, that he couldn't be there for Sam, not now, but it still pained him more than anything in his entire life.

Gabriel knew he was growing too attached. He needed to stay away, regain his composure, get himself under control. But as his hunter slept, he decided he could remain a little while longer to give them both a sort of peace, if only for a few short hours.

Dean slid out from underneath the car he was working on and wiped his greasy hands on his jeans before reaching for the bottle of whiskey by his feet. He hadn't stopped drinking in the past 72 hours, but rather than being completely shit-faced he was in more of a permanent drunken haze.

There was so much in his head to sort through that it overwhelmed him, so he just pushed everything to the back of his mind and busied himself with distractions. He knew he was going to have to face it all eventually, but he wanted to put it off as long as possible. So he avoided Sam at all costs, he fixed cars, and he drank.

Running a hand through his spiky hair, he got to his feet and stumbled a little in the direction of the house before leaning unsteadily against a busted up car door and doubling over, retching violently. After heaving up what felt like his entire insides, Dean wiped his mouth with his t-shirt and sank down to the ground, hanging his head between his knees.

He didn't hear the engine of the truck pulling into the yard, or the door slamming shut, or the heavy footsteps marching toward him. His head jerked up and hit the car behind him, hard, when he heard the gruff voice above him.

"What the hell happened to you?" Bobby asked incredulously, just the faintest trace of concern in his voice. He reached down and pulled Dean to his feet, steadying him with a calloused hand on the hunter's shoulder.

"Hey, Bobby," Dean slurred, attempting a smile.

The older man grimaced and tugged Dean by his elbow toward the house. "What, d'ya drink a whole liquor store? God dammit, I leave you kids alone for a week and you're a hot mess," he griped. "Where's Sam?"

"Sam," Dean scoffed. "Prob'ly stickin' his nose where it don't belong, s'what he's good at."

Bobby rolled his eyes and struggled up the porch steps and through the front door with Dean. "Better not puke on my floor, you hear me?"

Dean mumbled something unintelligible in response and Bobby tossed him down into a chair at the kitchen table, thrusting a glass of water and a couple of pills into his hands, which he downed quickly. He had barely finished the water before he was yanked up again and pushed toward the stairs. "Shower and sleep," Bobby commanded, eliciting another mumble from Dean.

The hunter slowly made his way up the stairs and into the bathroom, clumsily stripping out of his clothes and putting the water on, turning the nozzle to cold so he wouldn't fall asleep in the middle of his shower. He stepped in and hissed as icy droplets trickled down his bare skin, scrapping soap altogether and just standing under the spray until he felt the spinning in his head slow down a little.

Shivering, he turned off the water and reached for a towel, briefly rubbing it through his hair before wrapping it around his waist and padding into the makeshift bedroom. Without bothering with the lights, he tugged on a pair of sweatpants and tossed the towel into the corner, finally collapsing on the bed and rolling onto his back, stretching out his limbs and taking up the entire space. Tucking his arms behind his head and settling into the mattress, he hummed contentedly for a moment and felt himself beginning to drift off to sleep.

However, he was instantly jolted awake when a low, gravelly voice vibrated through the darkness.

"Hello, Dean."


	5. Chapter 5

Dean bolted upright so fast that he was hit by a wave of dizziness. He threw a hand out, gripping the headboard to steady himself before calling out into the darkness with a hoarse voice, "Cas?"

There was a sound of rustling fabric and then the angel was there, right in front of him, a vague outline of a shadow in the pitch black room. "We need to talk," he rumbled.

"Damn right we do," Dean snapped angrily, now wide awake. "Where the hell have you been?"

"Dean, that is unimportant right now, I –"

"Unimportant my ass!" Dean cried out. "You leave without any explanation and can't be bothered to make a phone call to tell me where you are, what happened, if you're okay! You know how worried about you I was?"

He leaned over and switched on the lamp sitting beside the bed, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the dim light and Castiel came into focus. The angel's dark hair was as unruly as ever, and he had changed back into his uniform trench coat and suit. Azure eyes stared down at the hunter blankly, not giving anything away.

"I apologize for my absence, Dean," Castiel said quietly. "I will explain."

Dean's gaze traveled briefly up and down Castiel's form, assessing him for any damage before making eye contact and nodding curtly. "I'm listening."

"After Gabriel restored my grace," Castiel began, Dean making a look of disgust at the mention of the archangel's name, "I returned to Heaven. I remembered why I fell. I had to atone for my mistakes."

"What mistakes? What are you talking about?" Dean asked, confused.

"I broke the rules," Castiel stated simply.

Dean waited for him to continue, but after a moment's silence he urged, "What rules, Cas? You gotta give me something here, man, I'm not following."

Castiel sighed deeply and moved to sit on the side of the bed, dipping the mattress down so Dean rolled into him a little, his thigh brushing against Castiel's hip.

"We are not supposed to get to close to humans. Angels are not made to... develop relationships. We were not built with the capacity to hold strong emotions for others. It could jeopardize our work, get in the way of our duties," Castiel explained, his words dragging on his tongue, as if he was having a difficult time phrasing himself correctly.

"So, what, they're mad that you're friends with me and Sam, so they just took your grace away?" Dean was trying desperately to understand, but to him, all these rules-of-Heaven just sounded like a lot of bullshit.

"No," Castiel corrected him, "they were not angry, they were concerned."

"I still don't get it," Dean huffed. "We've been tight for a while, what's their problem now?"

Castiel's eyes shifted down to his hands resting in his lap, and he seemed to get uncomfortable all of a sudden. "I seem to have become more... emotionally attached to my charge."

Dean's heartbeat quickened and a spark of hope flickered within him before he swallowed it down. He had just gotten Castiel back; he wasn't about to push him away with his twisted fantasies by assuming he meant something more than he was saying. Better safe than sorry.

Clearing his throat, he asked tentatively, "What does that mean?"

The angel still averted his gaze, twirling his thumbs around each other in what appeared to be nervousness. "Dean, I..." He helplessly searched for words, but came up empty. Instead, he took a deep, calming breath and turned his anxious blue eyes on Dean.

The hunter waited patiently, searching Castiel's face, but was unable to read anything from him. The air was thick with tension, a heavy silence draped over them both for a long moment as they stared at each other, Castiel trying desperately to explain, Dean trying just as desperately to understand.

It happened so quickly that Dean's mind couldn't keep up; one second he was studying the cerulean oceans of Castiel's eyes and the next a pair of lips crashed against his, a hand on the back of his neck pulled him closer, and all of the breath escaped from his lungs in one fluid motion. He felt something warm in his stomach, a heat flooding him from the inside out, making his heart jump and his skin tingle and all of the blood rush to his head. It was liquid fire, it was fuel, it was pure energy and it was overwhelming, his entire body responding all at once to this kiss that was like electricity pumping through his veins.

And then as suddenly as it had started, it was over. He opened his eyes to see Castiel perched on the edge of the bed, eyes wide and cheeks flushed bright red, with embarrassment or arousal, Dean didn't know. It took his mind a second to catch up and process what had just happened, everything that had been said... and then it all clicked.

"Oh," he whispered, his eyes widening with realization. "You... oh."

Castiel nodded once, not taking his eyes off of the hunter's face. Another moment of heavy silence passed between the two of them before he spoke, moving to stand up. "I should go."

"No!" Dean leapt forward and locked his fingers in a vice grip around Castiel's thin wrist. "Don't... don't go."

Castiel settled back onto the bed gingerly and Dean looked up at the ceiling, willing himself to think clearly. There was still a lot left unsaid, a lot that he didn't understand, things that he needed to know. He felt like he was going to explode because Castiel kissed him, Castiel returned his feelings, Castiel wanted him back and that was absolutely the most amazing feeling in the world. But he was also extremely confused about the technicalities of it all. Was it against Heaven's 'rules'? Would Castiel have to leave? Would Dean ever get to see his angel again? A million questions crossed his mind, each more worrying than the last, but he shook himself, realizing he was jumping the gun a little, and decided to start from the beginning.

"So you fell because of..." With the hand not gripping Castiel's wrist, he motioned between the two of them.

Castiel nodded. "I broke the rules," he said for a second time.

"But how... I mean, you're back, and this... what just... that isn't... is it okay?" Dean spluttered incoherently, not really getting anywhere with the whole thinking-clearly thing.

The angel nodded again. "I atoned for my mistakes." He shifted his hips so that he was completely facing Dean and stared into his eyes with that intensity that Dean had only ever felt with Castiel. "But I also made a stand for myself. For this."

Dean knitted his eyebrows together, still not understanding. What did he mean by atone? If angels weren't allowed to have feelings for people, how was he back here with Dean? How could he just kiss him like that? And what did he mean, this? What was he making a stand for?

As if reading his mind, Castiel continued explaining, saving Dean the trouble of stringing enough words together to get his questions out. "They are concerned that any... feelings between us will get in the way of my protecting you. They will distract me, or cause me to lose my priorities. But they are giving me a chance to show them that I can take care of you no matter what I feel. And no matter whether or not you return those feelings," he added nervously, breaking eye contact with the hunter.

Dean was struggling to wrap his head around it all, still reeling from the kiss they had shared moments before. "What's gonna happen to you, Cas? If you can't... if it doesn't work?"

Castiel just looked at him, not saying a word, but Dean already knew before he asked. If it didn't work, Castiel would be gone.

He released Castiel's wrist and ran his fingers through his hair. "Jesus, man."

"This changes nothing, Dean," the angel stated calmly, suddenly regaining his composure, his face hardening and no longer betraying his nervousness. "None of this is your responsibility, and we may continue to just be... friends, if that is what you wish. I do not expect –"

"Cas," Dean interrupted, sitting up and bringing his face closer to the other man's, looking him right in the eyes. He knew what the angel was trying to say, but it was pointless. He wanted this just as much as Castiel did – hell, probably even more. And here he was, the only thing preventing him from acting on his latent desires being the incessant stream of apologies coming out of Castiel's mouth. The corner of his own curled up in a slight smirk. "Shut up."

Gripping the back of Castiel's neck, he pulled him in and pressed their lips together roughly. The sparks of heat and electricity he felt from the first kiss were nothing compared to this one. He gasped, feeling as though his insides were being lit on fire. Castiel's chapped lips brushed against his own urgently and he let out a moan as he felt the angel melt against him, practically falling into his lap. He slid his fingers up and twined them in the short hair at the back of Castiel's head while his other hand reached down and fitted itself against Castiel's hip. His tongue snaked past his lips and glided against Castiel's tentatively before the smaller man opened up, allowing Dean to sneak inside and taste him.

He tasted so good; sweet and warm and a little like honeysuckle. Dean explored for a while, running his tongue along Castiel's teeth and lips, twining them together before retreating and letting Castiel return the favor. It could have been minutes, it could have been hours, he didn't know and he didn't care, he never wanted to stop. His whole body pulsed with the warmth flooding through his veins and his fingertips tingled as they brushed along Castiel's back, mapping out the contours of his body through the layers of clothing he had on.

Castiel had his hands on Dean's bare chest, gently massaging the muscles there. He pulled away from the kiss and threw his head back, gasping for air, and Dean immediately went for his exposed throat, licking and sucking at the sensitive skin, sending shocks of pleasure through his body. Brushing his cheek against Castiel's, Dean noted the rough stubble along his jaw and, though he wasn't used to it, he realized that he kind of liked it. He had never been with another man before – never even thought about being with another man before, for that matter – but something about Castiel seemed so familiar and so right that it didn't feel nearly as foreign to him as it actually was.

Dean's hands traveled down the angel's back before coming around to his front, slipping inside his trench coat and pushing it off of his shoulders along with the suit jacket. His deft fingers began working at the buttons on the dress shirt as he reattached his lips to Castiel's. They kissed fervently, not breaking contact except for when Castiel tugged his tie off over his head and threw it haphazardly across the room. The dress shirt fell onto the floor along with Castiel's other clothes and Dean splayed his fingers across the newly uncovered skin, reveling in how soft it was. He had always thought of men as being rough and hard, but Castiel was surprisingly smooth and fluid. His body moved with Dean, fitted against him, matched him perfectly and it felt incredible. It was already the best sex he had ever had, and they hadn't even gotten to that part yet.

Not that they would get to that part. At least, not tonight. Dean was in completely uncharted territory, and it was somewhat terrifying. He pushed Castiel back until he was laying down on the bed and hovered uncertainly over him on his hands and knees. After admiring the body sprawled out beneath him, he fixed his gaze on Castiel's lust-darkened eyes and the fear in his own must have been noticeable because Castiel pulled him down into a slow, passionate kiss and whispered, "It's okay, Dean. You don't have to."

"No," he growled, swooping down and crashing their lips together roughly, "I want to." As if to emphasize his words, he rocked his hips down on Castiel's, creating friction between their clothed erections.

Castiel moaned loudly, tossing his head back and gripping Dean's shoulders tightly. He bucked his hips up as Dean moved, grinding into him, setting a steady pace for them to rub against one another. Before long, Dean felt himself getting dangerously close to the edge, and he pushed himself up away from Castiel, not wanting it to be over so soon.

Tilting his head to the side, Castiel gazed up at the hunter and panted, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Dean assured him, kissing him briefly, "just wanna take it slow."

Castiel nodded in agreement and tangled his fingers in Dean's short hair as the hunter kissed down his neck to his chest. When he reached Castiel's nipples, he took one in his mouth and sucked hard, biting gently then swirling his tongue around it to sooth the sensitive skin. He smirked at Castiel's gasp of surprise, kissing across his chest to give the same treatment to the other side. Looking up, his sparkling green eyes met with bright blue, and he relished the look of pure ecstasy on the angel's face.

It suddenly hit him that this was probably the first time Castiel had ever been with someone – anyone. He had never been kissed before, never been touched. If Dean was scared for his first time with a guy despite his abundance of experience in bed, he could only imagine how Castiel must be feeling. He paused in his ministrations and crawled back up so that he was directly above Castiel's face.

"Cas... have you ever done this before?" he asked softly.

The angel shook his head. "You are the only one, Dean."

Those words seemed to stoke the fire burning inside Dean. He let out a feral growl and dove in for a fierce kiss. "Gonna take such good care of you," he breathed out between kisses, receiving a pleasured moan in response.

Dean made his way back down Castiel's chest, exploring the curves of his abs and spending time worshiping the hipbones that had haunted his dreams ever since he first saw them. He buried his nose in the thin trail of hair that led down past the waistband of Castiel's slacks, peppering kisses along it until his lips brushed coarse fabric. He looked up into Castiel's face once more, silently begging permission, and Castiel nodded to grant it, biting his lower lip in anticipation.

Keeping his eyes locked on Castiel's, Dean popped the button of his pants and pulled down the zipper with his teeth. He sat up and began tugging them off of the angel, watching as each bit of skin was uncovered with unwavering awe. Discarding them onto the floor, he ran his hands up Castiel's bare legs and felt him shudder beneath his touch as he brushed along his inner thighs.

He leaned down and ran his tongue along the waistband of Castiel's briefs, catching the fabric between his teeth, listening to every sharp gasp that the angel made, knowing those blue eyes were watching his every move. Hesitantly, he brought his hand up and placed it over the bulge in Castiel's underwear, causing the angel to arch his back and call out his name loudly. He massaged Castiel gently through his underwear before finally sitting back up and coaxing them off.

Castiel was splayed out on the bed, panting heavily, legs spread wide to allow Dean to sit between them. His cheeks were flushed red and his pupils were so lust-blown that there was barely any blue left in his eyes at all. A thin sheen of sweat was already covering his body, making his muscles glisten as they tensed and relaxed under Dean's touch. His fully hard cock was leaking precum onto his stomach, and Dean couldn't help but notice that his angel had an impressive package. His eyes trailed up and down Castiel's body, taking in every detail and every curve.

"So beautiful," he murmured, sliding his calloused hands up Castiel's chest and back down again, where they settled on his hips.

"Dean," Castiel whimpered, "please."

"Shh, you're okay, I got you Cas," Dean whispered as he spread light kisses along the insides of Castiel's thighs. Laying down on his stomach between the other man's legs, he sized up the admirable length in front of him. It wasn't like he was clueless; he knew what he liked, and he had done it to himself plenty of times, but it was different doing it to somebody else. With a deep breath, he decided to just go for it and wrapped his hand around the base of Castiel's shaft, causing the angel to inhale sharply and tense his muscles.

He gently rubbed up and down, twisting his wrist and swiping the pad of his thumb over the tip on the upstroke, spreading the precum along his length to make it smoother. Dean licked his lips a couple times, working up his courage, before leaning forward and sealing them around the head of Castiel's cock.

Castiel cried out loudly and his hands curled into fists, gripping the bedsheets so tightly that his knuckles turned white. He bent his knees and wrapped his legs around Dean's shoulders to bring him closer as he begged, "Don't stop, p-please... don't stop..."

Dean bobbed his head up and down, taking in as much of Castiel as possible, using his hand to cover what his mouth couldn't. The sounds coming from his angel were purely pornographic, and he had to admit, he was a little proud of himself for it. It may have been Castiel's first time, but damn it all if Dean wasn't going to put everything he had into making him feel good. This wasn't just sex, and this wasn't just anybody; as corny as it sounded, making Castiel feel good made Dean feel even better. He never thought giving head to another guy would make him so hard it was almost painful, but he found himself working his hips against the bed to gain some much needed friction, bringing himself dangerously close to the edge again – and he hadn't even been touched.

He ran his tongue along the sensitive vein on the underside of Castiel's shaft and swirled his tongue around the tip, hollowing out his cheeks and sucking hard. Castiel writhed beneath him and bucked his hips up, surprising and nearly choking Dean, who held onto the angel's hipbones and pinned him down.

"D-Dean... I don't know... I need... It's too much," Castiel cried out, his whole body shaking as the hunter brought him closer and closer to his climax.

Dean took that as his cue to pull off and climb back up the angel's body, cupping one hand on his cheek while his other hand continued to work Castiel's cock.

"It's okay, Cas," he whispered, capturing his lips in a gentle kiss. "Just let go. Come for me."

Castiel cried out once more, locking onto Dean's shoulders, digging his fingernails into the hunter's skin as all of his muscles tensed up and he came hard, coating Dean's hand and his stomach with thick white fluid. Dean stroked him through his orgasm, holding him close as his body shook with pulses of pleasure, kissing his neck and his face. When he pulled back, he sat in awe for a moment, trying to burn the image of Castiel's blissed out face into his mind so he would never forget it. The flushed cheeks, the parted, kiss-swollen lips, the dark hair even more mussed up than usual. The only thing Dean could think while staring down at his angel was that he was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in his life.

When Castiel's breathing slowed and he removed his legs from where they were wrapped around Dean's waist, the hunter rolled over onto his back and pulled Castiel with him so that he was curled into his chest. They laid there like that for a while, basking in Castiel's afterglow, despite the fact that Dean was still painfully aware of the bulge in his pants. He didn't care, though; the moment was perfect and as Dean closed his eyes to drift off to sleep, he couldn't help but wish that it would never end.

The next morning Sam woke up from the best sleep he'd had in a while. He stretched out his long limbs and yawned before heading upstairs to the bathroom to take a quick shower. When he arrived in the kitchen, he was surprised to see a familiar face sitting at the table chowing down on a homemade breakfast.

"Bobby! You're back!"

"Mornin', Sam," Bobby greeted him gruffly. "Got back last night. Had to drag in your idjit of a brother, probably still sleepin' off an ugly hangover." He shook his head and bit off another mouthful of bacon. "What the hell happened while I was gone? And where'd those angels get off to?"

"Nice to see you, too," Sam sighed and dropped into a chair, resting his head on the table with a thunk. "Cas got his grace back. He and Gabriel left a few days ago. There was a fight. Not a big deal." He shrugged.

Bobby raised his eyebrows, knowing there was more that Sam wasn't telling him. "A fight?"

With a heavy sigh, Sam ran a hand over his face. "Gabe had Cas's grace, he kept it from him. I knew about it and Dean found out. Now he's all pissed off."

The older hunter stared at him incredulously. "What'd Gabriel want with Castiel's grace? And you were helpin' him?"

"He didn't mean anything by it," Sam insisted. "He just thought Cas and Dean should spend some... quality time together."

Bobby snorted. "Quality time, yeah. If those morons spent anymore quality time together they'd be married already."

"What?" The younger Winchester's jaw dropped.

"Oh, c'mon, Sam, you're slow but ya ain't blind," Bobby said through a mouthful of eggs. "Those two were made for each other."

"Try telling that to Dean," Sam muttered.

"Anyway," Bobby ignored him, "y'all better kiss and make up soon cause I ain't no landlady, and there's a whole lotta hell spawn out there waitin' for you boys, so you oughta get movin'."

"Right. Except he won't even talk to me. He walks around here acting like I don't even exist," Sam complained, dropping his head into his hands.

"Give him another day or so, I'll try to talk to him," Bobby reassured him as he slid over a plate loaded with eggs and bacon. "Now eat."

The hunters ate in silence, both mulling over the situation at hand and worrying about Dean. Before long, they heard the tell-tale sound of footsteps coming down the stairs and made nervous eye-contact. Sam muttered under his breath, "Here we go."

Dean waltzed into the kitchen with a bounce in his step and a bright smile on his face, humming under his breath. "Mornin', Bobby! Heya, Sammy," he said cheerily, ruffling Sam's hair as he passed by. "I knew I smelled bacon," he added as he reached for Sam's plate and grabbed a couple pieces. He turned to pull out a glass from the cabinet and poured himself some orange juice.

Behind his back, Sam just stared at him, mouth hanging open in shock. Bobby raised his eyebrows and cleared his throat, swallowing down the food in his mouth. "Somebody's in a good mood."

Dean turned around to face the two men sitting at the table, nodding as he chugged his juice.

"No hangover, then?"

"Nope," Dean replied, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and smacking his lips. "I feel great, actually. What do you say we drive around and go gank some sons of bitches? Been a while, eh? I'm down, what about you, Sammy?"

"Uh," Sam looked at him suspiciously, "sure, Dean. I gotta... find something, I guess. I'll let you know."

"Great," the older Winchester grinned before striding out of the kitchen and bounding back up the stairs, leaving the other two hunters sitting in a stunned silence.

"Was that..."

"Weird," Bobby agreed, still staring at where Dean had been a minute ago. "Maybe it was just his time of the month."

"Yeah," Sam nodded, still unsure of what just happened. "I guess I'd better, uh... go look for anything weird, then." Bobby shrugged in response and turned to Sam with a look in his eyes that clearly showed that he was just as lost as the younger hunter.

Sam blinked a couple times before pushing away from the table and standing up, heading to the panic room, where he left his laptop. Perched on the edge of the bed, he ran a hand through his long hair and murmured, "What the hell..."

"Guess again," piped a voice from behind him.

Sam jumped and spun around, nearly falling off of the bed. "Gabriel," he gasped.

"Now you've got it," the archangel teased. He stood up against the wall, hands in his pockets, a mischievous grin plastered on his face.

"What the – where have you been?" Sam demanded. His thoughts were all over the place; first his brother, now this? He had no idea what was going on.

"I fixed it," Gabriel said simply. "By the way, you're welcome."

"What did you... how?"

"This, that, the works," the archangel shrugged nonchalantly, pushing off from the wall and taking a couple steps toward Sam. "Pulled a few strings."

Sam stared at him with wide hazel eyes, taking in the fact that his angel was standing there right in front of him after disappearing for four days, and suddenly a wave of relief washed over him. "You just left," he breathed. "You didn't even say anything. I didn't know..."

"I couldn't." The lighthearted glint in Gabriel's eyes faded and was replaced by a wordless, somber apology.

Sam sucked a sharp breath into his lungs and nodded, accepting it immediately. "Yeah... but why? I mean, what did you even do?"

With a heavy sigh, Gabriel looked down at the ground and cleared his throat. He hadn't planned on this when he came back to see the hunter, but he should have known he'd demand an explanation. It would be awkward, but he wasn't leaving without it, so he sucked it up and began, "When Cassie got his grace back, I knew he'd go straight home. So I followed him, and I beat him to Raphael. He's the ones who threatened him in the first place."

"Threatened him? Why?" Sam pressed, sitting up on the bed and leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

"Angels aren't supposed to get attached to their charges," Gabriel explained. "It can get in the way of their job. And we all know Castiel just threw that one out the window," he chuckled. "Raphael told him that if he didn't stop being so touchy-feely for Dean, he'd interfere, make sure he never saw him again. So Cas ripped his grace out to escape him. Bastard," he added darkly.

"Cas ripped his own grace out? Damn," Sam whistled, slightly impressed.

"That's part of the reason why I wanted him to stay with Dean," the archangel continued, "'cause that's why he was here in the first place. But when he went back, I knew Raphael would have his ass. So I talked to him. I'm stronger than he is, and he couldn't touch me even if he wanted to, 'cause I'd kick his ass six ways to Sunday if he tried." Gabriel rolled his eyes. "I convinced him to give Castiel a chance, to show that his attachment to Dean wouldn't get in the way of his job to protect him. Saved his skin. And mine," he added under his breath, blushing and rubbing the back of his neck with his hand.

"And yours?" Sam knitted his eyebrows together in confusion.

Gabriel cleared his throat again, avoiding eye contact. "Cassie's not the only one who's breaking rules around here, Sam."

The hunter blinked a couple times before realization hit him like a ton of bricks – though he should have been used to that by now. His jaw dropped for what felt like the twentieth time that morning and he let out a quiet, "Oh."

"Anyway," Gabriel waved his hand and changed the subject with a smirk, "Cas is back, probably hitting the sheets with Dean-o, if he's lucky. Hence the good mood this morning. And I'll say it again; you're welcome."

"Gabe," Sam said softly, standing from his spot on the bed and taking a couple tentative steps toward the archangel, who suddenly found great interest in the ceiling. "Gabriel, do you really mean that?"

"I will admit that you have yet to properly thank me, but yes, of course I mean it, you're very welcome," he joked, still trying in vain not to discuss what he had said moments before.

"I'm talking about... breaking the rules," Sam insisted, taking another step forward so he was almost right up against the shorter man, looking down at him intensely.

Gabriel chanced a glance up at the hunter and immediately regretted it when he found himself unable to look away. He swallowed the lump in his throat and muttered, "There's lots of rules. I'm a freaking trickster, what do you want from me?"

"Honesty," Sam replied sincerely. His body started reacting to their closeness; his stomach filled with butterflies and his breathing got slightly heavier.

Gabriel followed the movement of Sam's tongue as it slowly darted out across his lips before his caramel colored eyes met with bright hazel. "I...uh..."

Without warning, Sam swooped down and captured his mouth in a delicate kiss, just an experimental brushing of lips. The hunter pulled back and brushed away the strands of golden brown hair that had fallen into his eyes, searching Gabriel's face for a reaction. They stood like that for a long moment, just looking at each other, both of their minds racing, trying to process what had just happened. And then Gabriel reached forward, standing on his toes, gripping the back of Sam's neck to pull him down and lock their lips in a much more fervent, passionate kiss.

They melted together, their bodies fitting like pieces of a puzzle as Sam wrapped strong arms around the archangel and pulled him into his body. Gabriel's free hand wound itself into the hunter's long hair, moaning at how good it felt to be wrapped up in his embrace. Lips parted and tongues met simultaneously, tangling together in a slow, sensual dance. Both men lost track of time as they stood in the middle of the panic room, gripping each other as if they were scared to let go, slotting their bodies together with uncanny familiarity.

Sam pulled away first, gasping for breath, eyes closed as he leaned his forehead against Gabriel's and rubbed circles into the small of his back. When his eyelids fluttered open and his gaze met with the archangel's, he couldn't help himself from breaking into a wide grin and laughing, pulling Gabriel into a bear hug and burying his face in the crook of his neck.

"What's so funny?" Gabriel asked, unable to suppress the chuckle that bubbled up in his chest at the hunter's outburst.

"Nothing," Sam reassured him, kissing his neck gently, "I'm just... happy."

"Aw, Sammy," Gabriel teased, though his face turned bright red and his smile grew impossibly bigger. "Me too," he whispered into Sam's skin, holding him tighter. And it was true; he didn't think he'd been happier in his entire life. Not just because he had his hunter in his arms, but because he knew his brother was satisfied, and so was Dean – which he wouldn't normally care about, except that he knew it would make Sam feel better. So he had made good on his word; he had fixed it. And holding Sam close, he promised himself that he was going to keep it that way.


	6. Chapter 6

Sam bounded up the stairs two at a time with Gabriel in tow. He burst into the kitchen with a ridiculous grin on his face and startled Bobby, who was still sitting at the table reading through some newspapers. He just stood there wordlessly, panting for breath, before holding up his hand, the fingers of which were interlocked with the archangel's. His pride and joy emanated off of him, while Gabriel merely rolled his eyes.

Bobby's eyebrows quirked up and his eyes widened. "You've gotta be kiddin' me."

"Nope," Sam exclaimed gleefully, beaming his smile at Gabriel before turning back to the older hunter.

"So much for grandchildren," Bobby muttered, leaning his head back to talk to the ceiling. "I got two boys gone gay for angels. What did I do wrong?"

"Hey now, there's nothing wrong with a little holy lovin'." Gabriel wagged his eyebrows at Sam, who blushed slightly and laughed.

Bobby just shook his head as a tiny smile crept onto his face. Sure, he was a little taken aback by this sudden development, but honestly, he wasn't all that surprised. He had a feeling Sam and Gabriel were a little more than just friends, they were just better at being discreet about it than Dean and Castiel – though that wasn't really saying much. And besides, who was he to judge who the boys hit it off with? If anything, angels would be good for them. Able to protect them and all. And Sam had a look on his face like a kid in a candy store – he automatically approved of anyone who could make the boy that happy.

"So I take it the war's over, then?" he asked gruffly, changing the subject.

"Yeah, I mean, at least I hope so," Sam replied with a thoughtful look at Gabriel. "Just depends if Dean and Cas worked it out."

"I'd say they worked it out," Gabriel smirked.

"What's that supposed to –"

"I don't wanna know," Bobby interrupted the younger hunter, holding up his hand and making a disgusted face. "Guess that's why he had the sun shinin' out of his ass this morning, huh?"

"Bet he had more than the sun up his ass," Gabriel grinned mischievously, earning a horrified look from Sam.

"Gabriel!"

"What?" The archangel held up his hands in defense and put on the most innocent look he could muster. "Just being honest!"

"If I hear one more word about 'holy loving' I'm kickin' you all out for good," Bobby grumbled, going back to his paper.

Gabriel shot a quick wink at Sam before tugging them both into the living room to settle on the couch and wait for the moment of truth: Dean's appearance.

Dean woke slowly, basking in the warmth of Castiel's weight laying on his chest, skin against skin. He hadn't moved at all during the night – which was unusual, because he had always been a restless sleeper. Somehow just Castiel's presence made his rest infinitely more peaceful.

He yawned lazily and blinked his eyes open to see two bright blue circles staring intently up at him. "Good morning, Dean."

"D'you just watch me sleep all night?" Dean slurred, running his hand up Castiel's bare back. He made it sound like an accusation, but honestly, he wouldn't have minded. He might have even liked it.

"I do not sleep anymore, Dean," Castiel reminded him in his usual gravelly voice, so different from the high-pitched, needy whimpers and moans that escaped his throat the night before.

"Right, well, you could try it every once in a while, it'd be a little less creepy than staring at me while I'm unconscious," Dean teased, trailing his fingers up the back of Castiel's neck before running them through his mess of dark hair.

Castiel nodded but remained silent, closing his eyes and parting his lips, enjoying the feeling of Dean petting through his hair. Dean seized the opportunity to capture his mouth in a gentle kiss, lapping at the chapped lips with his tongue before pulling back and smiling at his angel. Damn, he was beautiful with a morning afterglow.

Dean's stomach growled loudly, effectively ruining the sweet moment they had going. Castiel rolled off of his chest and he sat up, far too quickly, the room spinning sickeningly. Putting a hand to his head, he groaned, "Fuck... killer hangover."

With a press of two fingers to the hunter's forehead, Castiel had him feeling better instantly.

"I should keep you around more often," he chuckled, leaning back down to kiss him briefly before swinging his legs around off the bed. "Okay, breakfast. You hungry?" Before the angel could give his robotic reply, Dean caught his mistake. "Right. Never mind. I'm gonna go get something to eat. You stay here 'cause I'll be right back, okay?"

"Okay," Castiel nodded, settling back down into the bed and tugging the blanket around his bare shoulders. He watched as his hunter threw on a wrinkled t-shirt and padded out of the room before rolling onto his back and staring up at the ceiling.

It had to be the greatest night of his entire existence. He had watched human copulation before, but he had no idea that it would feel so... intense and pure. Admittedly, pure was a strange word to describe the act considering that it was a sin, but Castiel didn't understand how anything so beautiful, that made him feel so complete, could possibly be anything but righteous. When Dean was holding him, caressing him, kissing him, he felt like nothing else mattered – he could stay with the hunter for the rest of his life and never tire of hearing him moan with pleasure, watching his face flush with red and soften under his touch, holding his gaze and looking deep into those sparkling green depths. And then afterward, when Dean pulled him into his broad chest and held him there, just laid with him and drifted off to sleep, Castiel felt absolutely and completely loved.

Of course, Dean had never actually said that he loved Castiel, so he didn't want to get his hopes up too high. But it certainly felt like he did. His face was so relaxed and at peace as he slept with Castiel in his arms, and throughout the night the hunter would murmur his name in his sleep, bury his face in the angel's hair, or tighten his grasp around him. And this morning, when he woke, he didn't get upset or run away or – what Castiel had feared most – regret it. In fact, he actually looked happier than Castiel had seen him in a very long time, and he took a little pride in that. So he hoped that Dean at least loved him a little bit. Because from what he knew about human relationships, the bubbling in his chest, the swelling of his heart, and the dizziness in his head were signs that he loved Dean very, very much.

The hunter returned quickly, jumping back into the bed and letting Castiel curl up into his side with a strong arm wrapped around the smaller man's body. He leaned in for a slow, lazy kiss, and Castiel noticed a faint taste that wasn't there before.

"You taste like..."

"Orange," Dean supplied, still brushing their lips together. "Had some juice."

Castiel nodded and decided that he liked oranges.

Dean pulled back after a moment and bit his lower lip thoughtfully. "What are we gonna tell Sam? And Bobby?"

"Whatever you wish," Castiel replied.

"I just... dunno what they'd say, you know? If they'd be okay with it, or think it was weird or something," Dean explained. "I mean, they're downstairs in the kitchen, and we should go down there but maybe I should go first, and then you can zap down there or something. So it's not like we're both going together, 'cause then they might get suspicious or something. I mean, two guys don't just wake up with each other in the morning as friends. That's weird. They'd know something was up, you know?"

"Dean," Castiel interjected, noticing his nervous rambling and quirking an eyebrow at him. "I understand. I will be downstairs after you."

Grinning sheepishly, Dean nodded and stood up. He turned back to Castiel and let his gaze trail down the outline of his lithe body underneath the blanket. Letting out a low whistle, he said in a deep voice, "The morning-after look suits you, Cas." He fell back onto the bed on his knees and placed his hands on either side of Castiel's head, balancing his body over the angel and leaning in for a heated kiss. Castiel circled his arms around the hunter's neck and pulled him in closer to deepen it, losing himself in the intoxicating aroma and taste of Dean Winchester.

"Must you leave right now?" he breathed when Dean moved down to his neck.

"I could wait a little while," the hunter murmured against his skin.

The corner of Castiel's lips turned up in a small smile. "Last night was wonderful," he whispered, arching his back as strong hands felt their way down his torso, "but I never got to return the favor." His words sent a shiver through Dean, who froze and locked eyes with the angel, pupils so dilated with lust that Castiel could barely make out the ring of green peeking out from behind them.

Castiel took advantage of Dean's surprise and rolled himself over, kicking off the blanket and exposing his naked body, pushing Dean onto his back beneath him. Dean gasped and struggled, grabbing Castiel's hips and trying to reverse their positions, but Castiel took hold of his wrists and pinned them above his head gently. "No," he said sternly, "let me."

Dean nodded, watching in captivation as Castiel turned his attention to the sensitive skin on his neck. The angel hovered over him for a moment, just looking, counting the myriad of freckles scattered over his skin and trailing a thumb over the thick vein on the side. He noticed Dean's breathing quickening in anticipation and leaned down to swipe his tongue from the collar of his shirt all the way up to behind his ear, eliciting a heady moan. Thin cotton gave way to smooth skin as Castiel tugged Dean's shirt up and off. He mapped out the planes of the hunter's chest with his hands, still using his mouth to explore Dean's neck, which was stretched out and exposed with his head thrown back in pleasure.

When Castiel dipped his hips down and brushed his thigh over Dean's quickly filling cock, Dean hissed loudly.

"What's wrong?" he asked worriedly, searching the hunter's face, afraid he had hurt him.

"Nothing, I... Cas," Dean moaned, looking up at his naïve angel. "Please, I need... just... touch me."

Castiel sucked in a sharp breath and obliged, sliding his hand slowly down Dean's chest and slipping beneath his waistband, his sweaty palm catching on tender skin.

"Wait," Dean burst out suddenly, causing Castiel to freeze and look up at him with wide eyes. He grabbed the angel's thin wrist and tugged his hand out of his pants, bringing it up to his mouth with a mischievous glint in his eye. "Open your hand," he commanded, and Castiel obeyed. Curling his tongue skillfully, he licked a stripe up his palm, slicking up his hand as best he could before releasing him with a wink and a nod. "Okay."

Castiel swallowed and nodded back, suddenly acutely aware of how new he was to all of this. But when he swiftly slid back under Dean's waistband and wrapped a hand around his arousal, the loud moan that reached his ears was a definite sign that he was doing the right thing. As he slid his hand from the base to the tip, he recalled Dean's actions from the night before and swiped a thumb over the sensitive head, causing Dean to buck his hips up and dig his nails into his shoulder blades.

Stilling his hand, Castiel threw his head back and let out a strangled cry.

"Cas? God, Cas, are you okay?" Dean asked worriedly, trying to sit up, searching his angel's face for any sign that he was in pain.

"That felt... amazing," Castiel gasped, still looking up at the ceiling.

Dean cocked his head to the side in confusion. "What, this?"

He dug his fingernails into Castiel's shoulders again, ripping a loud howl from the angel's throat. "My... my wings," he panted, body shuddering with waves of pleasure. "They're... sensitive."

The hunter's eyes widened in shock for a brief second – he had almost forgotten that he was bedding an angel of the lord, wings and all – but he quickly recovered with a smirk and began to knead the muscles along his spine, relishing in the look of pure bliss on Castiel's face. Castiel rocked his hips against Dean's, riding him to gain friction for his quickly filling cock.

Suddenly, he growled and began working Dean's cock again, determination etched into his expression. Dean groaned low in his throat and bucked up into the hand pumping him relentlessly. The combination of Castiel's soft hands and his needy moans brought him close to the edge in record time.

"Fuck, Cas," he breathed, "m'gonna... don't stop... oh God..."

They came within seconds of each other, Castiel grinding unabashedly against Dean's clothed thigh while Dean was completely enveloped in everything that was his angel. He felt the warmth of Castiel spilling onto him and that was it; his entire body tensed and shook with his orgasm as he pumped load after load into Castiel's fist. They collapsed together, limbs tangling and chests heaving, just trying to regain their breath.

"Wow," Dean panted after a moment. Castiel, still unable to find his voice, merely nodded in agreement. "I, uh... should probably go downstairs now."

Neither of them moved an inch.

"You okay?" Dean asked, glancing at Castiel, who was sprawled out on his chest, perfectly still.

"Mmm," came the muffled reply.

The hunter chuckled and pressed his palm between Castiel's shoulder blades lightly. Arching into the touch, Castiel whimpered, his body overly sensitive.

"Okay, okay, sorry," he smirked, removing his hand. "Your wings though... I gotta say, that's pretty damn hot."

Castiel tilted his head so that his bright blue eyes met green. "I am glad you think so."

"Gonna have to use that spot more often," Dean winked.

"Mmm," Castiel murmured again, laying his head back down.

They stayed that way for a while, Castiel curled into Dean's chest, Dean petting through his hair and humming under his breath. But Dean knew that if he didn't get up soon, he was never going to get up at all, and though he would love to be able to stay in bed with his angel all day, he didn't want to risk anyone coming in to find them tangled up in each other. So he took a deep breath and stretched out, yawning, "Alright, I gotta get up."

"No."

He laughed. "Yes, Cas, c'mon. Move."

"No."

"Don't make me hurt you."

"I am an angel of the lord, Dean. You cannot hurt me."

"Oh yeah? Wanna bet?"

Castiel rolled his eyes – a habit he had undoubtedly picked up from the Winchesters – and replied, "Dean, stop being childish."

"You're the one who won't get off of me!" Dean protested. He gripped Castiel's shoulders hard and pushed upwards, trying to throw him off, but the angel didn't budge. Remembering his abnormal super strength, Dean suddenly realized that when he overpowered Castiel in bed, it wasn't as much him being dominant as Castiel being submissive. Damn, he wondered, is there anything about him that isn't sexy as hell?

But seriously, he needed to go downstairs before Sam came looking for him and walked in on a scene that would scar his poor little nerd brain for life. So he pushed up harder on Castiel, using his legs as well and grunting with the effort.

"Cas, please, help a guy out," he begged, giving up with a heavy sigh.

Castiel eyed him mischievously. "I suppose. But..." He began to slide down Dean's chest, peppering kisses along the way. "Only if you promise," he hovered over Dean's crotch, licking his lips slowly, "to pick up," he mouthed the growing bulge in Dean's sweatpants, "where we left off."

Dean groaned, watching his every move. "Fuck, yes."

"Alright then," Castiel said, sitting up between the hunter's legs and flashing him a smile. The should-be-illegal seductive expression he had moments before dissolved into his usual innocent, stoic look.

"Dammit, Cas, you're gonna be the death of me," Dean grumbled as he rolled off the bed and snatched his shirt off the floor, discarding his ruined sweatpants in favor of a fresh pair of jeans. "Wait, like, ten minutes, okay?" Satisfied with Castiel's nod in confirmation, he turned and padded out of the room, pulling the door shut behind him. He had to swallow hard and clench his fists to stop himself from running back and jumping into bed with the angel all over again. With a deep breath, he hoped against hope that he would be able to control himself and that nothing would give them away once in the company of his brother and Bobby.

But when he made his way into the kitchen, the only one there was the older hunter. "Hey, Bobby... where's Sam?"

"Living room," Bobby grunted, not looking up from his paper.

"He found anything to do?" Dean asked.

Bobby snorted. "He sure found somethin'."

The older Winchester knitted his brow in confusion. "Uh... okay. Thanks."

He made his way into the living room, expecting to see his brother sprawled out with his computer, but stopped short in horrified surprise.

There, on Bobby's couch, was Gabriel the archangel, feet propped up on the coffee table, lollipop in his mouth, arm looped around a pair of broad shoulders – Sam's shoulders.

"What the hell?"

Sam spun around and laid fearful eyes on his brother. "Dean."

"What are you doing here? And why – what are you doing with Sam?" he spluttered at Gabriel, his chest already heaving in anger.

"Give him a chance, Dean. You have no idea what he did for Cas, and for you," Sam insisted, quickly standing to put himself between the hunter and the archangel.

"I know what he did for Cas. He kept his grace locked away for a freakin' laugh, that's what he did," Dean snapped. "What is this, you two plotting again? Another trick, another stupid joke?"

"No, this isn't –" Sam started, but Gabriel interrupted him.

"Give it a rest, Dean-o," he groaned, rolling his eyes. "Take a deep breath, and let's talk about this like adults, shall we?"

"Talk about what?" the older Winchester spat. "How you hurt Cas?"

"I never hurt Castiel." Gabriel gritted his teeth, a sudden fire lighting inside him. "He's back, isn't he? He's here, he's safe, and it's all thanks to me. I was the one looking out for him, I was the one protecting him, so don't you dare ever accuse me of hurting him again, or I swear I'll –"

"Gabriel," a gravelly voice came from behind Dean. He whirled around and stared open-mouthed at Castiel, who had appeared in a flutter of wings in the corner of the room. His heart started pounding, and he glanced nervously at Sam, who looked just as shocked as he was.

"What a lovely surprise," Gabriel clapped his hands together. "I was just explaining to your little guard dog here why there's no reason to bite."

"Guard dog my ass," Dean grumbled, turning his attention back to the archangel.

"I believe we need to talk," Castiel spoke to his brother, ignoring the seething hunter.

Gabriel's expression sobered up immediately and he nodded once, taking a deep breath before both angels disappeared without warning, leaving the two hunters stranded in the living room, alone.

Dean slowly turned to face Sam and damn, but if looks could kill.

"Listen, man, he wasn't –"

"You know what, Sam?" Dean cut him off, ice in his voice. "I don't wanna hear it right now. I just got Cas back after that son of a bitch locked his grace up. Now he's gone, again. And then I come downstairs to find you two are freakin' cuddle buddies?" He stared at his brother in disbelief. "Whose side are you on, Sam?"

"It's not like that," Sam insisted. "He was trying to help."

"Help? He goes around doing whatever the hell he wants, doesn't give a damn if the people I care about are in the way, just crushes them up and spits 'em out and expects everything to be all sugar-coated and forgive-and-forget. Have you forgotten when he trapped us in tv-land, Sam? Or when he killed me off all those times? That wasn't to help us. No, it was all a big fucking joke to him. And you're acting like he's some great hero. What the fuck am I supposed to think, huh? Am I really supposed to believe you, that he's trying to 'help' after all that?"

Dean's voice had risen to a shout, his bottom lip quivering and his face turning bright red with anger. He set his jaw and clenched his fists, using every bit of self-restraint he had not to march across the room and punch the daylights out of his brother.

"I don't expect you to believe me," Sam said quietly, head hanging low. "I know it's not exactly like him. But it's the truth, Dean. And I... I trust him."

"You trust him." Dean shook his head, unable to comprehend what Sam was telling him. "That's good. Real good." He ran his hand through his hair and turned away, storming out of the house without another word.

Sam collapsed onto the couch, cradling his head in his hands. This had not gone at all the way he wanted. It wasn't really surprising, considering how much of a hothead Dean could be, but he at least hoped that he'd have Gabriel there to help him out. And who knows where those angels had flitted off to.

Cringing at the sound of a loud crash out in the salvage yard, Sam could only pray that they would be back soon, bringing good news and, maybe, a little bit of peace.

Gabriel looked around at the old, gray warehouse Castiel had brought them to. Metal scraps left behind on the hard concrete floor, bits and pieces of broken down machinery scattered here and there, abandoned chains hanging from the ceiling and swaying with the draft that came in from the shattered windows, clanging against the metallic walls. He would have picked somewhere a little more comfortable – maybe a lounge, preferably with lots of scantily clad girls and sugary treats to go around – but this was about Castiel, after all. The two brothers hadn't really said anything about the events of the past few days, barely seeing each other in Heaven before returning to their respective hunters, so he knew he had quite a bit of talking to do here, and the less distractions, the better.

"I don't understand the reason for any of this," Castiel stated from across the large, empty space. His voice echoed off the thin metal walls.

Gabriel started from the beginning, why he kept Castiel's grace; the easiest part. "You forgot why you fell," he began. "I couldn't let you rip out your own grace for no reason."

"I did not accomplish anything as a human." Castiel's icy blue eyes seemed to stare straight through him.

"But you have now, right?" Gabriel prodded. "You've got Dean now. And if you hadn't had those extra days with him, you knuckleheads never would've realized your feelings for each other. So you needed that."

"It is a sin, Gabriel."

The archangel sighed in exasperation. "But they're giving us a chance! Don't you get it? We have a chance to prove them wrong, to show them that we're strong enough to handle it!"

"I don't understand. I atoned for my mistakes," Castiel vindicated. "Raphael allowed me to return to Dean, but what does any of this have to do with you?"

Gabriel gaped at his brother. He had never explicitly told him about his involvement, but he figured Castiel was at least bright enough to realize it himself. "You think Raphael just flipped a switch all of a sudden? You think he just changed his mind because you 'atoned'? Did a little dirty work, and now you're all set? It doesn't work that way. It took way more to get you off the hook." Gabriel swallowed back the overwhelming emotions that were threatening to burst out of him; sadness and hurt at his brother's blindness, almost to the point of anger. "I was with Raphael before you got there, Castiel. I stood up for you. I made him change his mind. I convinced him to give you a chance."

Realization flooded Castiel's facial features and a sudden thankfulness for his brother exuded from him so much that Gabriel could feel it, like a warmth filling in the cold open space. "But... why?"

Here we go, Gabriel thought. He had yet to break the news about him and Sam to anybody – well, except Bobby Singer and Dean, but they didn't really count – so now it was all or nothing. "Because, Castiel, by giving you a chance at this... they're giving me one too."

The blue-eyed angel cocked his head to the side in confusion. Gabriel rolled his eyes; apparently he had to spell everything out for him. "I like Sam."

Castiel nodded in understanding, seemingly unfazed by Gabriel's admission. "I see. Well then, I must apologize to you. And thank you, as well. I greatly appreciate what you did... for us."

With caramel-colored eyes sparkling, Gabriel smiled. Maybe it was all going to work out after all. "Anytime, bro. Anytime."


	7. Chapter 7

It was the calm after the storm, or so it seemed, because Bobby hadn't heard a peep out of his house guests since Dean stormed out the door. He had stayed well out of the way of whatever was happening, but figured it was about time to put in an appearance. Sam hadn't moved from his position on Bobby's couch, broad shoulders hunched over and head hanging low, when the older hunter peered into the living room.

"Do I wanna know what went down in here?" he asked cautiously.

Sam didn't even bother with a reply, just groaned softly.

"Guess that's a no." Bobby went over to sit by the sagging lump of a man and handed him a beer, which he accepted gratefully.

"Worse than last time," Sam muttered, gulping down the drink. "He's furious."

They both knew who he was referring to; Bobby didn't have to ask. "He'll come around, just like he did before. S'long as that fool in a trench coat comes back, and he will eventually."

"Yeah." Sam knew the only person Dean would even think about listening to at this point would be Castiel; he and Gabriel were officially the enemy in his brother's mind. Not that he blamed him, because if the tables were turned, he'd most likely be the same way. It just made it harder for Sam to know that there was nothing he could do.

Gabriel and Castiel would certainly work things out about the whole grace-mishap, and then of course Castiel would explain everything to Dean, who in the worst-case-scenario would still dislike the archangel but at least would be able to stay in the same room without trying to kill him. However, Sam and Gabriel's newfound interest in one another? Sam couldn't imagine Dean taking that well in any way, shape, or form. He wasn't really sure how to explain it, either; it wasn't planned, it wasn't thought over, it just kind of... happened.

Come to think of it, the younger Winchester couldn't even pinpoint when he had started to feel more-than-friendly toward the cheeky, impulsive trickster. It wasn't the same type of relationship that he had with Jess, where they had an instantaneous spark but the going was tough, so they both had to keep at it until it worked. No, this was more of a natural pull, an instinct. It didn't even bother him in the slightest that Gabriel had a male vessel; it just felt right. When he was with the archangel, it just made sense that he felt safe and a little less guarded than usual. When Gabriel admitted his feelings for the hunter, Sam didn't even think before kissing him – hadn't even realized he wanted to until it happened. Every move they made together seemed to flow seamlessly into the next one, like a dance ingrained into their muscle memory so they hardly thought about the steps they took until they had already taken them. It was effortless, it was right, it was good.

But of course, Dean wouldn't understand that. All he would be able to see was that Sam had taken a little too much liking to the guy who had been an intentional road-block in their lives, and that would not sit well with him. At all.

Another loud crash and what sounded like shattering glass from outside in the yard broke the silence, and Bobby shook his head, grumbling, "If that idjit does any serious damage, he's in for a whole lotta trouble."

Sam huffed out a forced laugh. "Might as well start kicking his ass, then."

Bobby stood and clapped a hand on Sam's shoulder. "You're alright, boy. Dean ain't that big a hypocrite that he won't let you be happy. He just wants you safe. He's sure as hell got a thick skull, but he's got a big heart, too."

Sam looked up and the corners of his lips curled into a half-smile. "Thanks, Bobby."

The older hunter wandered off, presumably back to the kitchen, muttering under his breath something about "freakin' angels" and "soap opera, under my roof" and "stubborn idjits". Sam couldn't help but let out a weak laugh, sipping at his beer and running a hand through his long golden-brown locks.

"Ah, there it is," a familiar voice piped up from the other side of the room.

Sam whipped his head around and his face lit up when he saw Gabriel, leaning against the wall with a grin on his face so big that reached the corners of his eyes. "There what is?"

"Your smile," the archangel said simply. "I missed it."

"What, have you been watching me this whole time?" Sam's tone made it sound like a bad thing, but his red cheeks and pleased expression told a completely different story.

Gabriel shrugged. "Not the whole time. Just got back from talking with Cassie a few minutes ago."

"How'd it go?" Sam inquired eagerly, patting the cushion next to him for Gabriel to join him on the couch.

As he walked over, the archangel assured him, "All sorted. Tied up the loose ends. Cas is gonna have a sit-down with your dickwad of a brother, maybe a little make-up sex, and we'll all be best friends again in no time." He winked as he plopped down next to the hunter and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, which Sam immediately relaxed against.

"Uh, sure." Best friends? That was too far from the truth to even be a little funny for Sam. "At least you and Cas are good, right?"

"Relax, Sammy. Everything's gonna be fine," Gabriel soothed him, pulling him a little closer. "You gotta stop worrying so much. You're gonna go gray early, and I don't really go for gray-haired guys."

"Shut up," the younger Winchester laughed, swatting at his leg playfully.

"Just kidding. You'd be sexy with any color hair."

Sam felt a hand card through his hair, then slowly make its way down his neck to splay out along the contours of his chest. "Gabriel," he warned.

"What? I'm just... appreciating."

Sam rolled his eyes and leaned his head on Gabriel's shoulder. "Appreciate me while I'm sleeping. I need a nap."

"Oh, no fun!" the archangel whined.

After a slight hesitation, Sam tilted his head and pressed a quick kiss to Gabriel's neck. "Later," he promised, feeling a slight fluttering in his chest at his own words. He wasn't quite certain what he was promising, but whatever it was, he didn't want it to be ruined by the guilt hanging over his head at his brother's anger. Because he and Gabriel were good. And they had time to wait.

Out in the salvage yard, Dean was throwing the grown-man equivalent of a temper tantrum, kicking dents into busted-up cars and heaving a tire iron into some half-cracked windshields. He wasn't sure what he was more upset about; seeing Sam with Gabriel, or losing Castiel twice in less than twenty-four hours. Of course his stupid brother had to go and be forgiving with the archangel that didn't give a rat's ass about anybody but himself. How could Sam be so blind? The guy was a trickster, for fucks sake. It didn't take a rocket scientist to see that the guy was going to use him up and throw him away like a piece of worthless junk. And damn it all if Dean Winchester was going to let that happen to his little brother.

Besides the whole mess with Sam and Gabriel, Dean had his own issues to work through, too. Last night and the following morning had been so easy, wrapped up in Castiel, forgetting everyone and everything else. But out in the daylight, around other people, Dean realized that he might not be quite on board with the whole gay-for-his-best-friend thing yet. Because yeah, Castiel was his best friend – Sam didn't count for stuff like that – so admitting any kind of feelings between them would be risking the solid relationship that they had built up so far. Dean wasn't sure if he wanted to take that risk, especially for a guy, because he was definitely not gay. Hadn't he been with enough women to prove that? Sure, he'd heard people call it "over-compensating", but those pretentious, assuming dicks didn't know him better than he knew himself, despite what they thought. And he knew that he wasn't gay.

But if he was being completely honest... he hadn't been able to get Castiel out of his mind since he saw him stark naked in the bathroom the other day. Being in bed with the guy was a whole different kind of amazing than he'd ever experienced before, and he knew good sex when he had it. So maybe he was... sort of attracted to Castiel. Just a little bit.

Dean exhaled heavily and braced his forearms on the hood of the closest car, leaning his head down to rest on sun-heated metal. Who was he kidding? He was in deep. If he could stop being a stubborn idiot for two seconds, he'd have to admit to himself that he didn't really give a damn if it made him gay – he wanted Castiel. He wanted to spend every waking moment with his angel, to hunt with him and let him ride shotgun in the Impala as he drove across the country, to take him out to bars and teach him how to play pool, to fall asleep beside him and wake up to see that he had stayed all night. He loved Castiel. He might even take a step further, one that he hadn't allowed himself to in a long time, and admit that maybe, just maybe, he was in love with Castiel.

But as good as it felt to finally make that realization, it didn't even matter, because the guy had left. He was off somewhere with that stupid fucker of an archangel, the same one who was apparently trying to get in his little brother's pants. And that was a whole other ball game he'd have to play before he could do anything about his newfound feelings for his own angel.

The thought of Gabriel with his arm around Sam caused a new bout of anger in the older Winchester, and he pushed himself off of the car he was resting against to raise the tire iron over his head and slam it down on the fading red hood. Gritting his teeth and puffing out his chest, he whacked the car over and over again, grunting with the effort but not letting up, getting more and more violent with each swing.

"Dean," called a voice from over his shoulder.

"Not now, I'm busy," he shouted, still going to town with the tire iron.

"Dean," it said again, more insistently.

"What?" he yelled furiously, spinning around and panting heavily, coming face-to-face with a pair of startlingly close cool blue eyes. "Oh. Uh... hey, Cas."

"Hello Dean."

"I was just... um..."

"We need to discuss Gabriel," Castiel stated matter-of-factly, ignoring the hunter's fit of rage a moment ago.

A wave of relief and joy passed over Dean now that his angel was back, standing right in front of him, but the mention of Gabriel instantly brought his anger back to the surface. "Yeah, what the hell is he doing back here?"

Castiel touched him gently on the arm in an attempt to calm him down. "Gabriel is trying to help, Dean. He took a great risk for my benefit, and that of you and your brother."

"What are you talking about?" Dean was in no position to believe that the archangel had done anything that remotely resembled selflessness.

"I atoned for my mistakes in Heaven, and I am being given a chance with you to prove that I can still protect you despite my affection for you," Castiel explained for a second time, "but what I did not know was that Gabriel made his own sacrifices to attain my forgiveness. He was the one to ultimately convince Raphael to 'bend the rules', and without him I would not be here now."

"Okay, but... why? What's he get out of it all?" Dean asked bitterly, still unable to give Gabriel the benefit of the doubt.

"Gabriel has broken the rules as well," Castiel admitted hesitantly, pleading his hunter to understand with his eyes. "He has... developed attachment to his own charge."

"That being..." Dean clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes when it clicked. "Sam."

"I understand your lack of faith in him, but he would never hurt Sam, or force him to do anything he does not want," Castiel rushed out, trying in vain to prevent Dean from exploding in fury. "He just wants Sam to be happy. Much as I do for you."

Dean choked out a laugh. "Happy? That dick has gone out of his way more than once to make us miserable, and now he wants to make Sam happy? That's all kinds of messed up," he growled. "He better keep his greedy paws off Sam or I'm gonna kick the living daylights out of that bastard."

He made to go back into the house, back to knock some sense into his stupid, stupid brother and that son-of-a-bitch Gabriel, but a firm hand on his arm held him in place.

"Dean, listen to me. You cannot hurt Gabriel. He has done nothing wrong. It is because of him that I am here with you. He has taken a great risk for my sake and yours, and I will not let you harm him." Castiel's voice was low and forceful, laying down the law, in a no-tolerance-for-bullshit kind of way. If Dean wasn't so pissed off about Gabriel, he would be pretty turned on. In fact, he was a little turned on anyway.

He eyed Castiel warily as the gears turned in his head. Alright, so maybe the guy wasn't a total douche. Having his angel back with him for good was something he probably should thank Gabriel for – not that he actually would, though. And if he truly was just trying to make Sam happy... Well. That was still something to be determined, and he'd be the judge of that, in any case. Reluctantly, he came to the conclusion that maybe he should give Gabriel another chance. Just a little one though – one false move, and he was roadkill.

"We're not gonna be best friends right away, ya know," he warned Castiel, sighing and relaxing his shoulders a bit, which automatically caused his angel to ease up as well.

"I understand. I do not expect you to forgive him for his past actions. But he has good intentions," Castiel assured him.

Dean raised his eyebrows in stubborn disbelief, but nonetheless huffed out, "Yeah, alright. I guess I'll let him go. For now. If he hurts Sammy, he's dead."

Castiel nodded solemnly, knowing it would never come to that. Gabriel wouldn't hurt Sam any more than Castiel would hurt Dean – and he would give his life before that happened.

He watched as his hunter's gaze flicked down to his mouth, and his eyes tracked the movement of his tongue as it darted out and wetted his own lips. When Dean's sea green eyes met his own, Castiel sucked in a sharp breath and waited patiently for him to close the distance between them, which he did painfully slowly. A gentle brush of lips soon turned into a heated, passionate dance of tongues and teeth, Dean gripping Castiel's hair to tilt his head and allow him more access.

After what felt like hours, they broke apart, panting and aching for more. But Dean still had his brother to think about, and he sure as hell wasn't gonna bone his angel with Sam in his mind, so he whispered, "I need to go talk to Sam."

Castiel bit his lip, waiting another moment to compose himself before pulling away and turning toward the house, Dean on his heels.

When they entered the living room, Dean narrowed his eyes upon seeing his brother asleep against Gabriel, who quickly shook him awake.

"We need to talk," the older Winchester demanded, looking down at Sam.

The archangel stood and clapped his hands together. "And that's my cue to leave. Play nice, now," he teased, though he looked all too uncomfortable with Dean standing in the room. Both of the angels made their way into the kitchen to give the hunters some privacy.

Sam opened his mouth to talk, but Dean held up a hand to stop him before he could even start. "Just listen to me for a minute, okay? I'm still pissed at you, because you're an idiot. But Cas told me what Gabriel did. I don't know if you know anything about it," he said nervously, not really wanting his brother to know that he and Castiel had slept together, "but I guess... I guess he's alright. He's still a dick, but he's alright. So I don't mind if you guys are... friends. Or something. But I just wanna let you know that I'm gonna have your back, even if you don't want me to, and if he hurts you – if he makes you feel anything but rainbows and sunshine happy – he's gone for good. Comprende?"

Sam let out the breath he'd been holding in relief. He hadn't expected Dean to be so willing to give Gabriel a chance – he'd have to thank Castiel for whatever he'd done later. With an enthusiastic nod, he replied, "Yeah, yeah of course. Thanks Dean. I really... You won't regret this."

"I better not," Dean chided. He stepped forward and ruffled Sam's hair, adding, "You better find something for us to do soon. I'm starting to go stir-crazy just sitting here. It's gonna be 'The Shining' type shit if we don't get going."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Alright, Johnny, I'm on it."

"Bitch."

"Jerk."

Sliding back into the comfort of their usual banter, both Winchesters felt the tension in the air dissolve and were visibly more at ease. It was still awkward, what with the new angel-relationships they had both acquired, but they could move on and get over their feud from the last few days, and that was good enough for now.

"Well, uh..." Dean coughed, "I'm gonna go see how Cas is doing. You know, with Gabriel back and all. Just make sure he's okay."

Sam smirked knowingly. "Yeah, okay, Dean. Whatever."

"What's that s'posed to mean?" the older hunter demanded indignantly.

"Nothing. Go spend time with your boyfriend," Sam waved him off, reaching for his computer and reclining back on the couch.

Dean turned beet red and stammered, "He isn't – he's not my boyfriend! Oh, like you're one to talk, Sammy," he added sharply when his brother chuckled and shook his head. With a huff, he turned and marched into the kitchen, where Bobby sat talking with the two angels. They all looked up at the same time and immediately stopped their hushed conversation.

Taking a seat at the table after grabbing a beer, Dean greeted them cheerily, "What's the word, boys?"

Castiel looked at him stoically, Gabriel averted his eyes, and Bobby cleared his throat, tightening his lips into a thin line.

Suddenly getting very uncomfortable, Dean asked, "Uh... Did I interrupt something, or..."

The older hunter replied grimly, "Get Sam in here. We've got trouble."


	8. Chapter 8

"I've never seen anything like this," Bobby muttered, shaking his head. "Can't tell what they're after, nothin' in common with the victims."

"Just a good old fashioned killing spree," Dean chimed in, eliciting a trademark eye roll from Sam.

The three hunters, along with Castiel and Gabriel, were gathered in Bobby's living room studying a giant map. Colored pushpins were scattered across the northeast United States. Pictures and newspaper clippings of the murders were hung up on the wall beside the map, along with eyewitness descriptions of the suspects – who all "appeared to have black eyes". The crime scenes were gruesome, the police had no leads, and all the signs pointed to demons.

"But what do they want?" Sam mused.

"My guess is, to kill people."

The younger Winchester smacked his brother hard on the back of his head. "Stop being a smart ass and help."

"When have demons needed an excuse to murder innocent people, huh, Sam?" Dean banged his fist down on the table in frustration. "I don't give a crap what they want, they're hurting people and it's our job to stop 'em, so what are we waiting for?"

He was growing impatient. Ever since Bobby and the angels had filled him in on the details they'd acquired that afternoon, he had been ready to take off in the Impala and get down to business. But the other members of the crew – mostly Sam – insisted on laying everything out and 'strategizing'. He'd been a sitting duck the whole time they were figuring out all that angelic-chick-flick nonsense, and now when they actually had a case to work on, they were just standing here staring at colored pins and paper; it was infuriating.

"So what's your plan, Dean-o? Go in guns blazing and hope you don't get us all killed?" Gabriel drawled from behind the hunters, where he was leaning casually against the wall. "And you guys are supposed to be the best of the best."

Dean turned on his heel and clenched his fists, eyes narrowed and ready to throw a couple well-deserved punches, but Sam grabbed his arm and held him back.

"Gabe's right, Dean. These guys are playing at something, we just gotta figure out what it is. And we can't jump in without some kind of plan, they'll have us for breakfast."

Castiel finally spoke up from the back of the room where he had been standing still as a statue, mulling over the case in his head, listening to the others' banter but not participating. "They are organized. Demons prefer to work alone and do not usually come together unless they're working for someone," he pointed out.

Dean avoided Sam's blatant 'I-told-you-so' look and focused back on the map. "So we don't kill them, we trap 'em and make 'em talk. Find out who the ringleader is, then send the son-of-a-bitch back where he came from."

"Wow, brilliant plan, tell me more," Gabriel jeered, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Sam shot him a warning look before turning back to his fuming brother. "We gotta find them first, dude. They're all over the place."

"Wait, look here." Bobby called their attention back to the map, where he was connecting the most recently placed pushpins, drawing a gray line across the map with a pencil. "I'm going through the last few of 'em in order. Looks like a straight shot, kinda. Hittin' the big cities on the coast. We could figure out where they're headed."

The younger Winchester frowned. "You think it's that easy? They're not covering their tracks all that well."

"Might as well give it a shot," Bobby shrugged.

"I'm in," Gabriel clapped his hands.

Castiel nodded solemnly. "We will help you."

Before the words had even left the angel's mouth, Dean was up and out the door, giving the trunk of his baby a once-over to make sure they were prepared before sliding in the driver's side and revving up the engine, waiting impatiently for everyone else to get a move on.

"Does he even know where we're going?" Sam asked, smirking a little at his brother's eagerness.

"Boston, New York, Philadelphia..." Bobby ticked off the cities that had been most recently hit. "Whad'ya think, D.C.?"

"Or Baltimore," Sam suggested. "We can hit it on the way there, if we go east then head down south. That would be the fastest route anyway, I think."

An impatient horn sounded from outside. "Will you hurry up? We're wasting daylight," they heard Dean shout. Bobby huffed and grabbed his jacket and his best revolver, making his way out to satisfy the anxious older Winchester.

Sam turned to the two angels. "You gonna ride with us, or mojo out there?"

"I will meet you there," Castiel replied before vanishing.

And then there were two.

Gabriel raised his eyebrows. "You wanna come with me? Get there a little early, have some time to ourselves, have a little fun?" He took a couple steps forward until he was looking up at Sam, pressing against him suggestively.

The hunter chuckled, but made no motion to move away. "We still gotta figure out the game plan."

"Oh, who needs a game plan?"

"We'll have time after," Sam assured him, pressing a quick, light kiss to his lips.

"Be careful out there." Gabriel's tone changed from teasing to serious so quickly it took a second for the words to sink in.

"Of course I will."

Big, strong arms wrapped around the archangel and he reveled in the warmth and comfort of his hunter's embrace for the few seconds they had until Sam had to hurry out and join his increasingly impatient brother in the car. Gabriel exhaled heavily. Well, this was it.

Game on.

The Impala glided up the street of their nation's capital and parked smoothly against the curb, where a tall, dark-haired man in a trench coat stood in wait. The hunters got out of the car and joined him on the sidewalk in front of a large, boring looking office building.

"They are in the city," Castiel stated in his usual low, gravelly voice.

"How do you know? You got a sixth sense for it or something?" Bobby asked dubiously.

Gabriel strode up behind them and leaned against the hood of the car, jumping into the conversation with his usual syrupy, sarcastic voice. "No, but he has eyes."

The hunters turned around and were met with the sight of a crowd gathering around a television set in the front window of a shop across the street. Local news was broadcasting a report of an armed robbery and mass homicide just outside of town, warning the inhabitants to be on the lookout for the suspects, who had all escaped before police arrived at the scene. It seemed like there were at least six of them, possibly more.

"Lookit you boys and your pro map skills. Nailed it," Gabriel sang.

"Great," Dean muttered under his breath, ignoring the archangel. "The Barrow Gang strikes again. You think they'd have high-tailed it outta here by now?"

"No, they can't have gotten far," Sam decided. "They were just outside town an hour ago, we'll find them."

The older Winchester turned to his angel. "Cas, you think you can hone in on your angel radar? Use a little mojo, get us a location?"

Gabriel quirked an eyebrow in amusement and Castiel narrowed his eyes – no one could even try to get away with that kind of request except Dean – but because it was Dean, he nodded curtly and replied, "I will try." After standing with his eyes closed for all of thirty seconds, he announced matter-of-factly, "Third floor of a hotel on the corner of 15th and M Street."

Dean beamed and clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Man, you're freakin' awesome. C'mon Sammy, let's go gank some Satan spawn."

"Slow down there, boy." Bobby grabbed his arm and whirled him around. "You ain't goin' without me, and I ain't about to attack a group of demons on their homefront."

"We could draw them out –" Sam started, but Dean interrupted him sharply.

"With what? You said yourself we haven't got any dirt on what they want."

"– or do a stake out. Wait 'til they leave and follow them," he finished, shooting a bitch-face at his brother, who despite the icy glare, came back with an another retort.

"They're not normal people, Sam. They don't have to go out for grub or booze. They could smoke their way outta there if they figured out we were watching and just leave the meat-suits behind, and then there'd be no way in hell to find them."

"Well what do you suggest, Dean?" Sam demanded angrily. "I don't hear you coming up with anything better."

"I'm up for a stakeout," Bobby piped up, earning a look of disbelief from the older Winchester. "They're on the move and they're gonna get rollin' at some point. Might as well just wait it out."

"Whatever," Dean grumbled, going back around the Impala – carefully avoiding Gabriel's casually outstretched foot that was undoubtedly meant to trip him up – and climbing in. He called through the open window, "We're getting food first though. I'm starving."

"Gabriel and I will be leaving, then," Castiel informed them.

Dean looked almost hurt. "What? Why wouldn't you come with us?"

"We'd be a little conspicuous staking out a group of demons." Gabriel stood and pointed to himself. "Hello – archangel? Not so easy to miss."

"Where are you gonna go?" Sam asked. Nobody missed the hints of concern and disappointment in his voice, but nobody decided to comment on it, either.

"Under the radar, but we'll stay close so we'll know if you need backup," the archangel assured him. He wanted to say more, but with both of their brothers and Bobby all within earshot, he decided against it. What he couldn't say out loud, he tried his best to convey through his eyes when he locked onto those hazel orbs – I'll stay close to protect you, watch over you, keep you safe.

Sam gave a small nod of understanding and closed the door to the passenger side of the Impala behind him while Bobby slipped into the backseat. When he turned back, both angels had already disappeared.

"How 'bout steaks, then stakeout," Dean suggested as he turned up the radio and hit the gas. The other two hunters remained quiet; it wasn't as much of a suggestion as it was telling them where he was going.

They picked up dinner at some greasy fast food chain – unfortunately they didn't serve steaks to-go, but they had burgers, which was good enough for Dean – and headed over to the hotel Castiel had pointed them to, settling in across the street to keep a good eye on the door.

"You get food on my baby, you Cinderella that shit 'til it sparkles, you got it?" Dean warned his passengers before they chowed down, directing it more at his brother than Bobby.

"Whatever you say, Dean," Sam sighed and rolled his eyes – though he was a little more careful than usual while picking through his Caesar salad.

"I don't get why you eat that crap," Dean went on through a mouthful of meat and cheese. "Looks like it's for rabbits."

"Would you just shut up and watch the door?" Sam snapped, not even bothering to try and control his irritation.

"How long you 'spect we're gonna be out here, Bobby?"

The older hunter paused in chewing his burger and furrowed his brow. "Dunno. If we're lucky they'll go out tonight for fresh pickin', but I'm guessin' they're gonna be holed up in there 'til at least tomorrow."

Dean resigned himself to grumbling unintelligible complaints under his breath while he finished his meal and then leaned back into his seat, crossing his arms and closing his eyes. "Wake me up if something happens. I'm takin' a rest break."

"Rest break? We haven't even done anything," Sam asked incredulously.

"Yeah, well, I'm exhausted."

"Dude, stay awake." A hard smack on Dean's shoulder made him jump and glare at his brother. "If you get ripped to pieces by demons, Cas'll never forgive me."

"What's Cas gotta do with it?" Dean demanded, suddenly defensive.

Bobby muttered, "Here we go," and dropped his head back on the headrest, waiting for the inevitable argument to begin. He had hoped to avoid talking about the boys' new beaus, knowing that nothing good could come of it when Dean found out Sam had his hooks in an archangel that he openly disliked. But he wasn't spared their incessant bickering, and apparently now he wouldn't be spared this, either. He should've brought earplugs.

"Oh, c'mon Dean, don't play dumb. You're like, Cas's property now. If anything happened to you he'd smite me into oblivion."

"I am nobody's property, what the hell would you say that for? Cas and I are just friends." Dean stumbled over the last word and he hoped no one else would notice – no such luck.

"Just friends my ass," Sam smirked knowingly. "Even you aren't stupid enough to believe that."

"What are you trying to say, Sam, huh?"

"That you and Cas are... you're..."

"What? Goddammit Sam, just say it," Dean shouted.

"Fucking! You guys are fucking!"

"Oh, for the love of God," Bobby groaned.

"We're not... I'm not..." Dean spluttered, completely shocked at Sam's words. It wasn't just that Sam knew, either; sure, they had sex, but what he and Cas had was not just 'fucking'. He wasn't sure what it was exactly, but he knew it was more than that. It was kind of insulting, to hear his brother say that. He wasn't going to outright deny it, but he wasn't about to defend it, either, because he wasn't about to come off sounding like a total girl. So he dodged. "It's none of your damn business! Like you're one to talk, letting Gabriel climb all over you like some kind of holy slut."

"Real classy, Dean. He had his arm around me. One arm. What do you care?"

"Are you blind? He's trying to get into your pants! We all know he's a little flamboyant around the edges, and now he's got a hard-on for you and he's gonna use you, Sam. I'm not about to let that happen!"

"Use me?" Sam was offended for Gabriel. "He's not gonna use me, you overprotective dick! He's better than that! And it's mutual, okay? Jesus, Dean."

"He's better than that? It's mutual? Oh, you've gotta be kidding me."

"Give your macho man facade a break for two seconds, okay? I'm serious. You don't want me saying anything about you and Cas, fine, but then don't ask about me and Gabe when you obviously don't wanna know."

"Cas has nothing to do with this! Sam, I'm trying to make you understand, that guy has made us miserable. Remember when he stuck you in Tuesday and had me killed some hundred times? You forgotten that already, huh? Just because he batted his eyelashes and cuddled up nice and close?"

"It's not like that! He helped us, he helped you. He got Cas back for you. Obviously he's not out to get you."

"Coulda fooled me."

"You're such a hypocrite." Sam turned to look out the window and crossed his arms – typical little brother pouting stance.

"Don't go there, Sam," Dean warned him.

"You're allowed to have an angel fuck-buddy, and I'm not."

"I said don't go there!" the older Winchester roared, clenching his fists and using every bit of self restraint he had to stop from pounding his brother into the seat of his beloved car. "It's not like that, okay? Cas isn't a goddamn fuck-buddy, so stop fucking saying that! Cas is different. He's my best friend and he's not going anywhere, not without me. I don't know what the hell's going on with us, if there even is anything, and if there was it wouldn't be any of your damn business. But you gotta stop acting like Cas and Gabriel are the same. Gabriel is a cocky son-of-a-bitch who likes to mess with our heads. But Cas always has our backs. He's like family. And I lo..."

Dean realized too late that what he was saying was way, way, way out of his league. He had gotten carried away ranting to Sam and had let his guard down. He hadn't even managed to say it to himself without cringing; there was no way in hell he was about to just let the words roll off his tongue in front of his brother and Bobby.

Speaking of, both of whom were completely frozen and silent, staring wide-eyed and shell-shocked at the panting, red-faced Dean.

"You what?" Sam finally breathed.

"Shut up," was the only thing Dean could muster. His head was spinning, his heart was racing, he felt like he had just run a marathon and was drowning in air that was so filled with tension, it seemed thicker than water. After a moment of silence only broken by his jagged breathing, he added, "Bitch."

"Jerk." Sam's knee-jerk response was immediate, and quickly eased the tension that, at that point, was threatening to drown all three of them. They took a collective deep breath and tried to shake off what had just happened, pushing it to the back of their minds and forcing a much more important, forgotten responsibility to the forefront.

Bobby, who had been sitting in awed silence throughout the entire argument, suddenly snapped to attention. "Have either of you idjits been watching the door?"

"Uh..." Both Winchesters looked at each other a little guiltily – Bobby got his answer.

"Dammit," he grunted, getting out of the car and going around to the trunk for some holy water, spray paint for sigils, and the demon knife, which he handed off to Sam. "I'm gonna go see if they're still in there. If I'm not back in fifteen, you get your asses in there. Don't you be arguing in here when you're supposed to have my back. Shut your yappers and get the job done, you hear?"

"Aye aye captain," Dean mumbled, tucking a vial of holy water into the inside pocket of his jacket.

Bobby marched off into the hotel, leaving the boys in an awkward silence. He sighed and shook his head.

At least he was spared that.

The Impala was filled with a stuffy quietness. Although the hunters had taken shifts throughout the night to watch the door, they were all exhausted, longing for the comfort of their beds back at Bobby's house – which was saying a lot for Sam, because that panic room cot was just shy of being a complete rock. Early morning sunlight filtered through the windshield, lighting up the myriad of dust particles swirling around in the air and casting a thin streak of light over Dean's tired face, eliciting a groan as he threw an arm over his eyes.

"Are you sure they're still in there, Bobby?"

"You doubtin' me, boy?"

"You know Sam, this stakeout was an awful idea."

"It might still work, Dean, just be patient."

"Patient, shmatient."

"Stop acting like a two year old."

"Shut up, Sammy."

"Stop calling me that."

"Stop telling me what to do."

It had been like this for hours. Bobby was really wishing he had brought those earplugs right about now. But he stayed silent, just thankful that the argument from the previous evening hadn't been repeated. He knew they'd have to hash it out again; these boys were never ones to just let things like that go, especially since the angels would be returning in the near future, but he kept his fingers crossed that they'd at least wait until he was out of earshot this time.

"Remind me why we don't just go in and get this over with already."

"Dean." Sam's voice was a warning – if Dean kept pestering him, things would start getting ugly.

"Alright, alright. Can't we go get food? I'm dying here."

"Hey, wait a second," Sam said abruptly, leaning forward and peering out the window. "I think that's them – is that them?"

"That's them," Bobby confirmed gruffly, sitting up straight to follow his gaze and narrowing his eyes at the group emerging from the front doors of the hotel. "Looks like only six. Weird, seein' 'em all walking down the street like a bunch of do-gooders."

"Let's go." Dean opened his door and made a move to get out, but Sam pulled him back by the collar of his jacket.

"We can't just engage them in the middle of the street, Dean," he pointed out. "We can follow them in the car until they go somewhere where we won't draw attention."

"Right," Dean conceded reluctantly, "let's just watch 'em walk away. Whatever you say, Sammy." Despite his irritated grumbling, he put the car in gear and inched forward, weaving expertly into the traffic and staying inconspicuously close to the pack of demons walking nonchalantly down the street.

"This place is packed with people," Dean noted while they were stopped at a light. "Where are they gonna go that we won't be noticed?"

"They're getting into a car," Sam remarked, pointing up ahead of where, sure enough, the six demons were filing into a dark blue van. "We need to follow them."

"Thank you, Captain Obvious," Dean shot a look at his brother, who returned it in full.

Bobby smacked them on the backs of their heads, eliciting surprised yelps from both of them. "You idjits better quit your catfightin' and start focusin' on the hunt, or you're gonna get us all killed."

After that, save for a couple snide remarks tossed back and forth, the conversation became much more professional, to Bobby's relief. They trailed the van through the city and finally rumbled out onto the interstate, where they rode along for a good few miles until following it off an exit and through a few more winding roads to a big brick building, surrounded by overgrown fields. A few cars were parked in the lot out front, but by the looks of them, they hadn't been used in a long time – most likely broken down and abandoned.

"What the hell are demons doing out here?" Dean wondered aloud, pulling up behind a clump of bushes and trees about a hundred yards from the building, where the Impala would be least noticeable.

"Looks like an old factory that's not being used anymore or something," Sam observed. "No idea what they're doing with it, but at least we won't be interrupted. You guys ready?"

"You kidding me? I was born ready," was Dean's immediate response.

"Ready as I'll ever be," Bobby grumbled at the same time.

The older hunter positioned himself by the front door where the demons had gone in, laying in wait in case they decided to make a run for it. Loaded up with holy water and securing the demon knife safely into his jacket, Sam led Dean around the backside of the building, where there was another entrance. There was no sign of anyone around, so they slipped inside and began making their way through the dimly lit, dusty hallway leading to the center of the building. After a few minutes, they could hear voices drifting through the musty air, catching part of a conversation.

"...told you it would work," a female voice gloated.

"I still don't think this was a good idea," said a deeper, male voice with a thick European accent.

"It'll be fine," the female voice soothed him. "We have one up on them."

"Exactly. It's the 'one up' there that I'm worried about."

Dean turned to Sam and met with an expression just as confused-looking as his own. They paused and stayed unmoving against the wall of the hallway, listening for something that made sense, or meant that the demons had their guard down. When he realized the voices had gone silent, Dean inched forward and peered around the corner into the main room.

Huge pieces of machinery were scattered around the whole place – conveyor belts, cranes, a couple vats filled with some kind of unnaturally colored liquid, and a big furnace on the far side. Things that could be used against them, but also things they could use to their advantage, so not good, but not all bad either. Whoever had been talking a few minutes ago must have left, because the room appeared to be empty.

Dean gave Sam the go ahead and they edged into the room, hands hovering over the revolvers tucked into their belts. They knew they were useless against demons, but it was instinct. They circled around the outskirts of the room, keeping their backs to the walls and their eyes peeled for any signs of movement.

The sound of footsteps approaching raised the hairs on the back of Dean's neck, and he almost growled when the first demon appeared in the doorway and smiled maliciously. Long dark hair cascaded down her thin leather-covered shoulders, framing her long, heavily made-up face. Sleek black boots peeked out from underneath low-hanging jeans that swished when she moved.

"Howdy, boys. What took you so long?" she drawled in a smooth, deliciously low voice that sent chills down Dean's spine. It was the same one they had heard before.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," he spat through gritted teeth, willing to play her game for a little bit. "City traffic and all."

"Oh, you kept up just fine," she smirked, flipping her dark hair over her shoulder and taking a few more steps into the room. "We could see you trailing us the whole way. You're not as slick as you think, you know."

"Tell us what you're after," Sam demanded, shifting his arm so that he could make a quick grab for the knife if he needed to.

"Oh, honey, you still haven't gotten it, have you?" She sighed, cherry red lips pursed in a small frown, and began to walk in a wide circle around the hunters. "We're not after anything. You see, us demons don't need to be after anything to kill. Sometimes, all we want... is just a little blood."

A loud crash rang out and Dean whipped his head around to see Sam sprawled up against the wall, cringing in pain as he was held up by a second demon, who had sneaked up behind them while they were distracted.

"Sam!" he cried out.

"Aw, you poor thing," the female demon purred. "Looks like he's a little busy. You're all on your own, sweet cheeks."

"I don't think so," he snarled, clutching the vial of holy water in his jacket pocket, hoping desperately that Bobby heard the commotion and was on his way to save the day.

"Oh, but I do," the demon grinned, and beckoned a finger to someone around the corner that Dean couldn't see.

A struggling and cursing Bobby was carried in by two other demons; he had obviously put up a fight, if the gashes on his legs and forehead were anything to go by, but they had overpowered him. Dean immediately shook his head at the apologetic look on the older hunter's face; it wasn't his fault that they had come into this unprepared and without a plan. Bobby was captive, as was Sam, who had the demon knife, and the only thing Dean had to defend himself and save his family was a couple ounces of holy water.

"You know, I've heard about you boys," the demon continued, looking disappointedly at Dean. "You're the best of the best, nothing can beat the Winchesters, blah, blah, blah. Seems to me that you can't quite live up to all the hype, now, can you?" With a tsk, she added, "Well, maybe I'll go down in history now, too. Because I'm going to be the one who rips you to pieces, and your darling little brother with you."

Dean lunged for her, not quite sure how he was going to tear her throat out though he was determined to do it, and he would have, too – if he hadn't been held back by a pair of viciously strong arms that trapped him in a vice-like grip and knocked something rock hard against his head, sending him plunging into unconsciousness.


	9. Chapter 9

Dean wasn't out for long, coming to after a couple minutes and blinking the colored spots out of his eyes. He groaned and pushed himself into a sitting position, rubbing his cheek where the bone had been painfully pressed up against the concrete. The memories of what had happened before he was knocked out flashed through his mind in a matter of seconds and then he was on his feet, trying to stay upright despite the violent way the room was spinning.

The first thing he noticed was Bobby, sitting down against the far wall and nursing his torn-up, badly bleeding legs. When they made eye contact, the older hunter gave a slight nod to tell Dean that he was alright. He immediately turned his attention to finding his brother, whipping his head around when a low, Sam-sounding groan reached his ears. The gigantic body and lanky limbs sprawled out on the floor seemed relatively unharmed, which made Dean relax fractionally, but when he noticed the growing red spot on the front of his brother's overshirt, he tried to rush toward Sam, taking two steps before realizing that it was a terrible idea – his shaky legs gave out and sent him crashing down to the hard floor.

A pair of strong, warm hands caught him just before his face met the concrete. He reached around blindly and grabbed at the arms holding him up, trying to release the iron grip they had on his shoulders.

"Take it easy, Dean-o, it's just me," a familiar voice soothed.

"Gabriel?" he croaked. "What –"

"Not now," the archangel interrupted sharply. "Stay here." And then he was alone again, the hands steadying him disappeared, leaving him gasping on the floor, trying to catch his breath and clear his head to figure out what the hell was going on.

As the blood rushing in his ears calmed down a little and he finally remembered how to breathe normally, Dean suddenly recognized another voice coming from behind him – a low, gravelly one that he was much, much happier to hear.

"...threatened my charge as well. You said you would help us, and you lied," Castiel was saying in a dangerous, menacing tone. Just the presence of his angel immediately lessened Dean's panic and allowed him to think straight, if only for a moment. He began crawling toward Sam, checking over him for any other injuries and making sure that he was alright. Besides a massive headache and a shallow gash on his ribcage, he seemed to be okay, thank God. Dean shrugged out of his jacket and tore off his overshirt, balling it up and pressing it into his brother's chest to stem the blood flow.

"It was for your own good, Castiel," snarled yet another voice, one that Dean had heard before but couldn't quite place. "You are unaware of the consequences of your own actions. I am trying to help you. You are blinded by these emotions that you are not accustomed to feeling."

"Oh, would you give it a rest?" Dean heard Gabriel sigh casually. "You don't have any right to tell Cassie about his emotions, you great big bag of egotistical dicks."

"I am not the one disobeying our father's orders," the voice snapped. "You're overstepping your bounds, Gabriel. You are not invincible nor are you above me, despite what you may so naively believe."

"Lemme tell you something, Raphael," Gabriel growled, losing all of his typical nonchalant swagger in place of a fiery anger – and ah, there it is, Dean realized. Raphael. But wait – what was he doing here? In fact, what were any of the angels doing here? What happened to all the demons? What the hell was going on?

"You set up this whole thing just to prove yourself," Gabriel continued, rage seething out of him so intensely that Dean could practically feel it, and he wasn't even looking at the guy. "But look around. We did our jobs, even though you sabotaged us. We're the ones who cleaned this whole mess up, and you proved nothing except for how low you are willing to stoop for power. Consorting with demons to bring down your own brothers? Really, Raphael? And you're lecturing us about father's orders. I can only imagine how proud of you he must be."

"You are ripping apart everything that has held this garrison together by disobeying my orders," Raphael warned the furious archangel. "Without obedience, there will be chaos. You have lived by your own rules for too long, Gabriel. You have tainted our brother with your selfish actions, and you have the nerve to tell me you are proud of this?"

"How many angels would break out of a ring of holy fire to save their charges, huh, Raphael?" Gabriel roared. "Would you be willing to give everything to protect a human, even one as important as the Winchesters? Because Castiel and I have given everything, Raphael. To carry out the responsibilities that our father gave us!"

"Attachment to your charges will only cause you to become lazy with their protection," Raphael insisted angrily. "Focus on their happiness can only distract you from their safety."

"No." Castiel finally spoke after staying silent for so long. His voice was quiet and even, a stark contrast from the passionate yelling of his brothers, but it laid a tense silence over the entire room. "I would give my life before I let anything happen to Dean. You are wrong."

"How dare you, Castiel," Raphael spat. "After all that I have done for you, you dare to defy me this way."

"I forgive you and do not wish to disobey you," the angel sighed, "but I can only do what I know is right." The sadness evident in his voice made Dean want to run to him and hold him tight. He still had no idea what was going on, but he could tell that this was difficult for Castiel, and he wanted it to stop. He just wanted it to be over.

"Aw, see, Cassie's not even mad at you. Me, on the other hand," Gabriel drawled, a lighthearted tilt to his voice though the rage was still bubbling underneath. "You cross me again, and I swear to you, you will regret it."

Dean heard the archangel snap his fingers and suddenly a spray of water was pounding down on his back. Turning around and gently repositioning his brother's head in his lap, he finally looked up to see the angels standing stiffly, Castiel and Gabriel watching unmoving as the ring of fire around Raphael flickered faintly and died. Bobby was still sitting down on the other side of the large room, mouth hanging open in what Dean suspected was confusion to match his own at the events that had just unfolded in front of him.

Raphael stepped outside of the now-extinguished circle of holy fire and made a move toward the brothers huddled together against the wall before turning his head over his shoulder to the angels watching him. "May I?" he asked, with just a hint of sarcasm. Gabriel narrowed his eyes, but gave a small nod of permission, which Castiel mimicked. The archangel continued walking toward the hunters and stopped directly in front of them, looking down with a strange glint in his eyes that Dean couldn't read.

"I owe you boys an apology," he rumbled, seemingly sincere. "I never wished you harm."

Sam groaned softly and Dean tightened his hold around his brother.

"You have been of great help to us, and I must extend my gratitude to you. However," Raphael continued, causing the older Winchester to tense up nervously, "your corruption of these angels has gone too far, and I am afraid I cannot allow it to continue. For that, I am truly sorry."

A long silver knife appeared in Raphael's hand and Dean cried out, shifting in his awkward position on the floor and trying to shield Sam as best he could. He watched, face flushed with anticipation and terror as the knife descended on them, almost in slow motion as it drew closer, and closer...

He flinched when the sharp blade pierced through his chest, mouth falling open and a gasp of surprise hitching in his throat, eyes frozen wide in shock. His hands flew to his stomach and he swayed forward, almost falling, but Gabriel held him up with a firm hand on his shoulder. "I told you that you would regret it," he heard the far-away voice of the archangel hiss from behind him, filled with fiery anger and venom. He fell back, laying flat on the floor, staring blankly at the ceiling, and the knife dropped beside him with a clatter. A bright white light filled the room, blowing out the glass in the windows with a high-pitched rushing sound and a loud crash. And then it was over.

Castiel rushed to Dean's side, cupping the freckled cheeks in his palms and searching his face with unmasked concern. "Dean," he choked out, though his heart was leaping up into his throat and restricting his voice.

"Cas," Dean responded hoarsely, staring up into his angel's eyes for a few drawn-out seconds before reaching up and wrapping his arms around Castiel's shoulders, holding on for dear life and trying desperately to hold back the broken sob that was threatening to escape.

Raphael lay spread-eagled on the floor, gray eyes dull and lifeless. The shadow of his wings was stretched out across the floor and the archangel blade protruding through his chest glowed dimly. Gabriel gazed down at his brother sadly, knowing that it had been necessary to kill him, yet wishing that he had been able to understand.

"Gabriel," he heard a small, weak voice cough. Immediately he turned and fell to the floor beside Sam, caressing the long golden hair with one hand and placing another lightly over the still bleeding wound on his hunter's chest, which he healed instantly.

"Hey, Sam," he smiled, though he there were tears gathering in his eyes. It was too much, losing his brother and almost losing his hunter all within the same few seconds. His heart felt like it was going to split in two at the devastation and overwhelming relief he felt all at once. When the long, muscled arms surrounded him and held him close, he all but melted against Sam, clinging to him just as tightly. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Sam replied, muffled into Gabriel's neck.

Both angels cradled their hunters safe in their arms, holding onto one another, relaxing as their violently shaken worlds gradually settled and fell back into place.

"Hate to ruin your Lifetime movie moment," Bobby coughed awkwardly from the other side of the room as he tried and failed to stand because of his damaged legs, "but uh... I could use a little help here."

Dean scrambled to his feet, pulling Castiel up with him and hurriedly wiped his eyes on the back of his hand. He made his way over to the older hunter and tugged him up onto his feet, keeping an arm around his shoulders to keep him steady until he got his balance again.

"You need me to stitch you up?" he asked, glancing at the wound on Bobby's forehead and the dried blood on his ripped up pants.

"Nah, I'm fine," Bobby waved him off. "It'll take more'n a couple scratches to take out this ol' dog."

Dean chuckled, still keeping a hold on Bobby as he helped him limp over to where Sam and Gabriel were still on the floor. "You girls good, or you need us to give you a minute?"

Sam glared up at his brother, but released the archangel and stood up anyway. "Shut up, jerk."

"Bitch," Dean retorted, grinning.

"What the hell was that about?" Bobby suddenly asked, getting straight to the point and looking expectantly between Castiel and Gabriel.

Castiel glanced over at his brother and began slowly, "Raphael set a trap for Gabriel and I so that he could prove that our attachments to Sam and Dean would be detrimental to carrying out our duties. He arranged a deal with those demons to lead you here while he trapped us in a ring of holy fire, so that the demons would kill you all and we would no longer have distractions from Heaven," he finished matter-of-factly, face completely void of emotion, as if he had been talking about the weather rather than the death of the three slack-jawed hunters standing in front of him.

"But we busted out and saved all your asses," Gabriel added with a cheeky grin. "No need to thank us, just looking out for our favorite pair of muttonheads." He ruffled Sam's hair fondly.

"What happened to the demons?" Dean asked, though he had a slight suspicion.

"Cassie took 'em out," Gabriel confirmed for him, flashing a proud smile at his brother. "Saw you on the ground and got his feathers all ruffled up. I'd watch out if I were you, Dean, he's a little protective."

"Like you aren't," Sam nudged the archangel, gazing up at him with a small smile and reddened cheeks.

"Okay, seriously, I'm done with all the chick-flick crap," Dean announced, making a face at Sam. "Let's get outta this place before Samantha here grows a pair of tits."

"Sounds good to me," Bobby agreed, hobbling toward the door. Sam rolled his eyes, but held his tongue in favor of lacing his fingers with Gabriel's and tugging him along toward the car.

Dean and Castiel followed behind them side by side, shoulders and hands brushing together as they walked. Dean had the overwhelming urge to pick the angel up and hold him close to his chest, protecting him from whatever else might be out there to take him away from Dean, but he resisted, seeing as he was the one who had just said he was sick of the chick-flick moments. Instead, he cleared his throat and asked, "You doin' okay, Cas?"

"Of course," Castiel said immediately. Dean wasn't sure he believed him – he had just lost his brother, killed a bunch of demons, and had apparently managed to somehow escape a ring of holy fire, which had the hunter's mind reeling as to how that could even be possible – but he didn't press the issue. "Are you alright, Dean?"

"I am now," he responded truthfully. Castiel looked over and the corners of his mouth turned up in a small smile, his eyes filled with affection for Dean, who found himself speechless under the weight of that gaze and barely managed to choke out, "C'mon, you can sit shotgun."

As Dean opened the passenger side door of the Impala for Castiel – Sam objecting loudly until Gabriel slid into the backseat and offered the space next to him to the younger Winchester, who then seemed more than satisfied – Castiel looked confused. "I can fly back."

"If you're anywhere near as wiped as I am, you can't," Dean insisted. "Now get in."

"But Dean –"

"Hey man, Romeo, Juliet, and Bobby are nice and comfy in the backseat, and I thought it'd be nice to just drive back together. Okay?"

Castiel couldn't deny the pleading in those bright green eyes and he nodded, ducking down into the seat. When Dean settled into the driver's side and stretched his arm out across the back of the bench seat, Castiel accepted the unspoken invitation and scooted over, fitting himself against the hunter's side and leaning his head to rest on his broad shoulder. Dean hummed and stroked the angel's neck with his thumb a few times before turning the key in the ignition and starting off for home.

Sam sighed in exhaustion and leaned his head back against the seat, closing his eyes and hoping to get some much needed rest on the ride back to Bobby's. However, squeezed between the older hunter and Gabriel, his too-long legs and too-tall torso forced him to sit up straight and rigid, which would never allow him to get comfortable enough to sleep. He huffed in annoyance, remembering when he was a little kid and he could stretch out in the seat and have plenty of room. His size could be an advantage sometimes, but man, did he wish he was small again right now.

Gabriel seemed to sense what he was thinking and angled his body toward the hunter, slipping his arm behind his neck and pulling him sideways so that Sam could rest on his chest. Sam let out a small sound of contentment and nuzzled into the fabric of the archangel's shirt before he almost immediately drifted off to sleep, Gabriel gently petting an affectionate hand through his hair.

Bobby quirked an eyebrow at the pair sitting next to him, then turned to see Castiel snuggled up against Dean, and held back a groan, leaning his head against the window. He almost wished they were back to fighting – he could have gone his whole life without seeing his boys cuddling with angels for the entire twenty hour car ride back home. Then again, he thought as he watched the cars flying by and the trees blurring into one big stripe of green along the side of the highway, he remembered how it felt to take Karen on long road trips, how it warmed him up inside to see her curled up in the passenger seat with her head resting on his lap, or how she would press up against him just to be close while they rode along in silence, enjoying each others presence while they could. No monsters to be hunted, no guests to entertain, no laundry to do or work to get done. Just them, holding onto each other as they drove across the country, counting miles and minutes and moments of shared peace in the sanctuary of their small car.

He smiled a little, closing his eyes and relishing the memories of his wife. He decided that he didn't much mind the boys getting cuddled up to their angels, after all. Lord knows they deserved a little something to keep them happy, keep them safe, keep them from losing themselves in the miserable life of a lonesome hunter. Castiel and Gabriel were going to be their saving grace – no pun intended. Their angels would be the one thing to tether them down, remind them of the things that were most important; family, friends, love. They were going to be to Sam and Dean what the boys were to Bobby.

And who was he to deny them of that?

"God, I'm tired," Sam yawned when Gabriel shook him awake. They had finally pulled into the salvage yard after stopping just a few times for food and gas. Sam and Dean took turns driving so the other could get some rest, and Dean had taken the final stretch.

Gabriel stepped out of the Impala and waited patiently for Sam to follow. He caught the hunter in his arms when his knees wobbled, body thoroughly exhausted to the point that he could barely move. "C'mon, kiddo, let's get you to bed," the archangel sighed.

Bobby had already limped onto the porch, unlocking the door and disappearing up the stairs without so much as a word, desperate for the comfort of his much-missed bed. Castiel walked a stumbling Dean up the porch steps and nodded a goodnight to Sam and Gabriel as he climbed the stairs after Bobby while Dean wandered into the kitchen, undoubtedly for a before-bed beer.

Sam had already fallen back to sleep standing up, leaning against the archangel. If he didn't have superhuman strength, Gabriel would be a pancake under the giant hunter's weight. As it was, he was a sturdy support, and he easily swung Sam's legs up to carry him into the house, kicking the door of the car closed with his heel.

He silently carried Sam through the house and downstairs to the panic room, lowering him gingerly onto the cot and a smile crept onto his lips when the young man rolled onto his stomach and buried his face into the pillow. Gabriel walked around to the end of the bed and tugged off his boots and socks before noticing that the bed was way too small for Sam; his feet and arms hung off the sides. It was kind of funny, but after a good chuckle Gabriel had some pity on the guy, so with a snap of his fingers the cot was replaced by a huge, incredibly luxurious bed fit for a king, covered in soft downy blankets and feather pillows. "Much better," he murmured.

He resumed pulling off Sam's overclothes to make him more comfortable, wrestling the thick jacket off of his shoulders and tossing it unceremoniously into the corner, followed by his blood-stained overshirt. There was blood on his t-shirt, too, so Gabriel decided to just tug that off as well, leaving Sam's toned, tanned back available for his viewing pleasure – and boy, was it pleasurable. The archangel licked his lips subconsciously, wishing that Sam would wake up so they could get on with that 'later' thing Sam had promised him. But he knew that the hunter needed rest, and he was willing to wait a little longer.

Gabriel rolled the hunter onto his back and drank in the stunning sight of his defined abs before popping the button on his jeans and pulling them off gently, careful not to wake Sam. When he finally got them all the way off and threw them over to join the rest of Sam's clothing on the floor, he couldn't help but let out a small moan. There was Sam, stripped down to nothing but his boxers, spread-eagled on the bed in a state of obvious bliss in his sleep, and it did unholy things to Gabriel's body. He quickly covered the hunter in the thick blankets before he found himself at the end of his self-restraint – as it was, all he could do to keep from jumping the six-foot-four hunk of burnin' love splayed out on the bed was just remind himself that the guy needed sleep. He had a long day. He almost died. Wait, no, don't think about that. He's alright. Just tired. Damn, he's so cute when he's tired. Actually, more like hot as hell. But wait, don't jump him. He needs sleep.

As he tucked the blankets tightly around Sam's body, he looked around for a chair or something so he could be comfortable as he watched over Sam through the night. Finding nothing, he sighed heavily and already had pictures of a ridiculously cushy armchair in mind to conjure up when he heard Sam stir and saw his hazel eyes blink open slowly.

"Hey, kiddo," he greeted him softly.

"Gabe," Sam breathed, the name slurred on his tongue. He reached out an arm and gripped the hand hovering over his chest tightly. "Don't leave."

"Don't worry, Sam, I'm right here," Gabriel soothed, petting his free hand over his forehead and brushing the hair out of his half-lidded eyes.

"Stay," the hunter begged again, his voice in a childlike whine.

"I'm not going anywhere," Gabriel reassured him. "I'll stay all night."

"Here," Sam demanded, tugging on the archangel's hand and rolling over so that Gabriel fell onto the bed on top of him.

"You sure?" he asked hesitantly. He wanted to crawl into bed with Sam more than anything, but he needed to make sure that it was what Sam wanted too – his foremost concern for a while now had been only what Sam wanted, and that wasn't changing tonight.

"Sleep here with me," Sam pleaded, wide eyes studying Gabriel's face.

"Okay, Sam, shh," the archangel agreed, climbing over Sam's body and snuggling into the covers beside him after mojo-ing his overclothes away with a snap of his fingers so he was just in a thin t-shirt and boxer briefs. He left a tiny sliver of space between them, just in case, but Sam closed the distance quickly, pulling Gabriel into his arms so the archangel's head was pillowed on his broad chest. Gabriel gripped Sam tightly, unable to get the images of the hunter after his run-in with those demons out of his head, promising himself that he would never let him get hurt like that again.

He lightly traced protective sigils into Sam's bare skin with the tip of his index finger, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest even out as he drifted back to sleep. Three words were on the tip of his tongue, craving so desperately to be spoken aloud, but Gabriel swallowed them down and closed his eyes tightly, willing himself to fall asleep, even though he had never slept before. Sam had asked him to sleep with him (no Gabriel, he chided himself, down boy. Not like that – actually fall into unconsciousness and rest kind of sleep), and that was exactly what he was going to do.

Gabriel felt himself slipping and just let himself go. He was safe in his hunter's arms, and Sam was safe in his. He hadn't been this happy in centuries. He fought hard for the right to be with Sam Winchester, gave everything he had and more, and he decided then and there that he wasn't ever going to let him go.

"Dean?"

The hunter whirled around in his chair at the table and looked up at the figure that had appeared in the kitchen. "Hey, Cas."

"Are you alright?" Castiel asked anxiously, eying the two empty beer bottles sitting on the table and the half-empty one in Dean's hand.

"Yeah," Dean answered, leaning back and running a hand through the short spikes of his hair, "I'm fine."

"You're not," Castiel stated knowingly.

"Are you in my head again?"

"No," the angel replied honestly, "I just know you well."

Dean sighed and pulled out the chair beside him, motioning for Castiel to come and sit, which he did without hesitation. "I'm just... I didn't realize how hard this was for you, you know? You lost your grace because of all this, and now Raphael's dead, and you gave up a lot, and you don't deserve to have all this happen. I guess I'm just worried about you, Cas. I never meant to hurt you, or make things hard for you, and I..." He trailed off, realizing that his exhaustion combined with the alcohol were causing him to spill more of his thoughts than he had initially planned. "I want you to know that I'm sorry, and that –"

"No," Castiel cut him off, eyes narrowed and jaw clenched.

"What?" Dean asked, confused.

"Do not apologize to me, Dean Winchester," the angel warned him harshly. "None of this is your fault. I rebelled against Raphael because he was wrong. I fought to be here on earth with you because this is where I want to be. Don't you understand, Dean? I did this, all of this, not because of you, but because I wanted to." His tone softened and he reached out a hand hesitantly before changing his mind and dropping it back down into his lap, nervously twining his fingers together. "I want to be with you, not just to protect you, but also because when I am with you, I have feelings that I have never known before. You fill something within me that Heaven has never been able to, and for that, I owe you more than you can ever imagine. I have never loved before, but if I am not mistaken, I do now. I love you, Dean."

Dean was completely stunned. His mind was reeling, his head was spinning, and he thought his chest was going to explode with the warm feeling that had been slowly building inside but suddenly burst throughout his entire body with the utterance of those last three words. He stared open-mouthed at Castiel's honest, bared and unguarded blue eyes until his own emerald green orbs glazed over in shock. He couldn't speak, didn't know how to, was being drowned in the emotions radiating from his angel and swirling around inside himself. Time froze and he was completely unaware of the fact that Castiel allowed him to sit, completely frozen and silent, for an entire fifteen minutes before standing and barely whispering, "We should go to bed now, Dean."

The angel tugged him up out of his seat, gently removing the bottle from his fingertips and placing it on the table. He turned to lead the way out of the kitchen, but in that same moment Dean finally rediscovered his ability to function and grabbed for Castiel's shoulder, spinning him around violently and crushing him into a desperate embrace. As he buried his face into the crook of Castiel's neck, breath hitching with overwhelming emotion, he stammered, "Cas, I – I love you."

Castiel bit back a sob of relief and circled his arms around the hunter, holding on just as tightly as Dean held him. The events of the past twenty-four hours were finally hitting home – almost losing one another, battling both Heaven and Hell for this moment, this embrace, this mutual desire and need and love. He lost himself in the feeling of Dean pressing against him, surrounding him, whispering over and over, "I love you, Cas, I love you." It was almost as though saying it once had opened the floodgates, and he just couldn't stop repeating it, whether more to convince himself or the angel, Castiel didn't know. But he didn't try to shush him, didn't try to push him away, didn't try to do anything but contain his tears as they held onto each other as if their lives depended on it.

Somehow, amidst the hugging and the declarations of love and the passionate kisses peppered onto cheeks and necks and lips, they found themselves tangled together in the cot of Bobby's spare room, the same one where they had let go of inhibitions and been intimate for the very first time. Dean realized that he was stripped down to his boxers and undershirt – when had that happened? – and that Castiel had shed his trench coat and suit in favor of a much more comfortable pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt (wait – were those Dean's?). It didn't matter, nothing mattered now except the feel of his angel's arms around his waist, strong hands petting gently along his back, chapped lips showering kisses on the top of his head. The last thing he remembered was the feel of something soft and feathery caressing his cheek before he drifted off into unconsciousness alongside the angel who had come to mean everything to him.


	10. Epilogue

Two Years Later...

"How much longer?"

"Cas, it's only been five minutes since we went over this. Be patient."

The angel crossed his arms and set his jaw, watching the endless corn rows fly by out the window of the Impala with narrowed blue eyes. "We could have been there hours ago, Dean."

"Are you mad because it's taking a long time, or because I won't fly with you?" Dean teased, a smirk playing on his lips as he glanced over at his passenger out of his peripheral vision.

"I just do not understand what you are afraid of," Castiel huffed indignantly. "You have flown with me before."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Yeah, bring that up, 'cause that ended so well."

"Your bowels need time to adjust to flight, but once you are used to it –"

"Oh, c'mon, man! We are not discussing my bowels," the hunter cried, waving the hand not gripping the steering wheel through the air. "Dean Winchester doesn't fly, okay? Not on a plane, not with an angel, no up in the air, ever. Period."

"You are being absurdly stubborn, Dean."

"Says the guy who won't even look at me because I'm not letting him fly everywhere," Dean retorted. Castiel didn't bother to reply, just continued to stare sullenly out the window.

With a heavy sigh, Dean patted his lap. "Come on, Cas. Lay down. Read your book to me."

A slender eyebrow quirked up. "You want me to read to you?"

Dean shrugged. "Sure. I liked when you read me that other one – uh, the one about the detective guy?"

Castiel's hunched shoulders relaxed and a blinding smile crept onto his face. "Sherlock Holmes," he informed him, impressed that Dean had even been paying attention when he recited a few select short stories from the thick volume Sam had given him last Christmas. He tugged a slender novel out of his trench coat pocket and flipped it open to the first chapter. He opened his mouth to begin, but was interrupted before he even got the chance to start.

"You gonna read all the way from over there?" Dean patted his lap again. "C'mere."

Although he had rested on Dean's muscled thighs during car rides or television show marathons or simple conversations many times in the past, any request by the hunter for contact never failed to make Castiel's cheeks flush with a bright pink color. He flashed another smile, though this one was much more shy, and shifted sideways so that he could lie with his head in Dean's lap and his legs bent at the knees, socked feet perched on the edge of the seat up against the door. Shoes remained on the floor of the car – a lesson Castiel had learned the hard way once and had never forgotten since.

He cleared his throat and began to read, deep, gravelly voice vibrating in his throat, rolling words around on his tongue and spewing them out with practiced ease. Reading had become one of Castiel's favorite things to do ever since he became permanently attached to Dean's side. There was a lot of down time for an angel who didn't have to shower or eat or sleep, but had to wait around while his hunter did all of those things, so to pass the time he picked up a book off of Bobby's bookshelf (that didn't have to do with lore) and quickly became enthralled by words of the written page. In fact, the first novel he had ever read – The Outsiders by S.E. Hinton – was the very same one he now held gently in his hands; he always kept it tucked away in his coat pocket because it was his favorite.

Dean suddenly broke through the steady mantra of his reading. "What kind of name is Sodapop? That's seriously his name?"

"That's his brother," Castiel explained. "The main character's name is Ponyboy."

"Nickname, you mean."

"No, Ponyboy is his real name."

"What the heck? Is this real?"

"It's a novel, Dean. It's fiction."

"Oh, okay. You can keep going."

Castiel picked up again, closing his eyes and just reciting some parts from memory because he had read them so many times they were forever engrained in his head. He listened to Dean's even breathing, felt him shift between the gas and the brakes, heard his small intake of breath whenever something exciting happened to the boys in the story. He could have been reading for minutes or hours; he had lost track of the time in the serene lull of his own voice.

Suddenly the smooth pavement of the road gave way to the uneven dirt and gravel of Bobby's salvage yard and Castiel sat up, blinking in surprise at having arrived already.

"See, wasn't so bad, was it," Dean murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the back of the angel's neck as he put the Impala in park and reached into the backseat to grab their duffel bags. "You can, um, finish reading that later, if you want."

"You like the book," Castiel smiled knowingly.

"I like you," Dean corrected him, pecking him lightly on the cheek before getting out of the car.

"There you boys are," Bobby greeted them from the porch. "Those other idjits aren't back yet, they left for somethin' this mornin', but they'll be in soon."

The whole family was coming together to spend Thanksgiving at Bobby's, reuniting after heading their separate ways for the better part of the past couple years. Dean and Castiel hunted most of the time, Sam and Gabriel hunted some (though Dean suspected they mostly just traveled to random ass beaches or the world's greatest libraries or whatever because that's all he ever heard Sam talk about), and Bobby... well, did whatever Bobby does in his free time. Dean wasn't exactly sure what that all entailed, but he assumed it meant a little of hunting and a lot of getting to know Sheriff Mills, who was 'just joining them for the holiday' at the older hunter's house – though she seemed to be all but officially moved into Bobby's house at this point.

"Good to see you, son," Bobby muttered as he clapped Dean on the back in a tight hug. "You too, Cas."

Castiel nodded warmly and followed the hunters as they moved inside the house, Dean immediately dropping the duffel bags and heading for the kitchen. "Yeah, missed you too," he heard Bobby grumble in mock-irritation as they watched the hunter disappear around the corner in search of a beer.

"Jody!" they heard Dean exclaim. "You makin' turkey? Man, that smells good."

"Oh good, you're here Dean, you can help," a familiar female voice said, at which Bobby smirked.

"Me? Uh... actually, you know, Cas is a great cook, he could help you a lot better than I could."

Castiel narrowed his eyes and made his way into the kitchen, where he caught sight of a thin and weathered yet still strikingly attractive woman running around frantically, trying to cook a whole buffet by herself, while Dean was leaning casually against the counter, sipping on a beer. "Ah, speak of the devil!" Dean joked.

"I would be obliged to help you," the angel told Jody sincerely, throwing Dean a very clear 'you're-such-a-lazy-ass' look, to which the hunter shrugged and grinned.

That was how they spent the afternoon – Dean drinking beer and swinging his legs from his perch on the counter, catching up with Bobby on their recent hunts and adventures, while Castiel and Jody bustled about the kitchen getting dinner ready. Jody roped the two hunters into helping a little with easy things like stirring ingredients or grating cheese, and they grumbled but did as told. Bobby caught the older Winchester eyeing his angel appreciatively more than once doing things such as bending over to retrieve the turkey from the oven, or licking stray bits of flour and dough off his lips, or even something as innocent as furrowing his brow in confusion while he tried to figure out a foreign recipe.

On one of those instances, Bobby cleared his throat loudly. "You asked him yet?"

Dean snapped his head around to look at him with wide eyes. "Keep it down, will ya?"

"Just wonderin'." Bobby defensively held up the hand not wielding the potato peeler.

"No, not yet, okay? Stop putting so much pressure on me, dammit." Dean turned his attention back to the apples he was slicing on the cutting board balanced on his lap.

"I ain't doin' anything! You were the one who told me about it in the first place," the older hunter pointed out. "S'been what, half a year? Man up already."

"You man up," Dean mumbled, lightly kicking at Bobby's leg.

"Not like he's gonna say no. That boy is stuck to you like glue, I tell ya, if he was any more attached y'all would be Siamese twins."

"Okay, I get it, thank you!" Dean snapped. "Can you just drop it?"

"Dean, is everything alright?" Castiel had walked over close to where Dean was sitting as he stirred the contents of a large blue bowl and overheard his last comment.

"Yeah, Cas, everything's fine," he sighed, corners of his lips turning up a little when he noticed a smudge of something bright red and sugary looking across the angel's cheek. "C'mere, you got a little something..." Dean set his cutting board down beside him to pull Castiel in between his knees and cradle his face gently in his hands. With a swipe of his thumb, he removed the red smear from Castiel's cheek, bringing it up to his lips where he flicked out his tongue and lapped it up. "Mmm. Cherry?"

Castiel nodded, face slightly flushed from watching the hunter lick the pie filling off his finger. "Thank you, Dean," he stammered.

"Don't mention it," Dean told him with a wink, still keeping his gaze trained on the angel when he turned away to continue his cooking, sending him off with a light pat on his ass.

"You two are gonna make me puke," Bobby groaned, earning a lighthearted punch to his shoulder.

"He's my Cas," Dean shrugged, which only caused Bobby to make a small gagging sound.

At that moment, a loud rustling of wings sounded from the living room, and the four working in the kitchen looked to the door expectantly, no doubt in their minds as to who it was.

"...could be centuries old," Sam was saying as he wandered in to the kitchen with Gabriel on his heels, who had a look on his face of such pure boredom Dean had to laugh a little bit. "Just look at the detail on this." He turned sharply and held the giant book in his arms right up to the archangel's face, too close for him to actually see it, but he nodded and murmured something of feigned agreement anyway just to humor Sam before looking up at everyone else.

"Dean-o and Cassie! What a nice surprise," Gabriel cried gleefully, slinging an arm around the older Winchester in greeting.

"You knew we were coming." Dean rolled his eyes, but accepted the bear hug nonetheless.

Castiel was even less enthusiastic about his brother's over-the-top hello, turning his back protectively to shelter the bowl of dough in his arms. "Don't even think about it," he warned Gabriel.

"Hey, Dean," Sam grinned, finally looking up from his book.

"Heya, Sammy," Dean replied, flashing a smile back at him.

"Look, I wanna show you this, it's incredible..." he began excitedly.

"Oh God, what'd you give him, Gabriel?" Dean groaned. "He looks like a kid in a candy store. Must be something really geeky, huh?"

"You're telling me," the archangel slurred around a lollipop that had just appeared from who-knows-where. "We just spent three hours in a library. A freaking library."

"Not just any library, Gabriel," Sam corrected him irritatedly, "the Library of Alexandria. You would think you'd appreciate it more, considering you were there when it was built, and all."

"Yeah, I know, that's exactly why I couldn't care less," Gabriel rolled his eyes. "It's just crappy old books, Sam."

The younger Winchester looked deeply offended. "You don't mean that."

To Dean's great relief, Jody coughed and motioned to the mess on every surface of Bobby's kitchen. "You boys gonna help, or are you gonna stand around arguing all day?"

Sam reluctantly went into Bobby's office to put his precious book somewhere safe from flying flour and fruit juice before returning to 'help' – which meant that he and Gabriel mostly goofed off around the kitchen and let everybody else fix the food. The archangel had been a bad influence on Sam, Dean noted resentfully.

While he was throwing cherry stems at the back of Castiel's head, Gabriel started to ask, "So Dean, when's the wed–"

"What, when's dinner?" Dean interrupted quickly, nervousness apparent on every single one of his instantly rigid features as he quickly glanced over to Castiel to see if he had caught on to what the archangel was saying – thankfully, he hadn't. He continued to babble, "I dunno, ask Jody, she probably knows, 'cause she's got this whole thing going, and I, uh, I don't know."

Gabriel raised his eyebrows in amusement and grinned mischievously.

"Probably just twenty minutes or so," Jody announced, completely oblivious to the subtext of the conversation. "You all can go ahead and sit down, I'm pretty much done."

Dean glared at Gabriel, who was still wearing a cheeky smile, and then at Sam, who was chuckling under his breath.

"Told you," Bobby whispered, earning himself a Dean-glare as well.

The four of them left Castiel and Jody to put the final touches on the dinner and made their way into the living room, where the couches were pushed against the wall and a few card tables were laid out end-to-end in the center of the room as a makeshift dining table – the one in Bobby's kitchen was too small to seat all six of them.

"You seriously haven't asked him yet?" Sam asked his brother in disbelief once they were out of earshot of Castiel. "I thought you were going to do that, like, forever ago."

"Can we please not talk about this?" Dean hissed, glancing nervously at the kitchen. "He can hear us."

"Nah, he can't," Gabriel reassured him – though it was all but reassuring to Dean.

"You're not gonna chicken out, are you?" Sam pressed. "I mean, the guy's probably been dreaming about it ever since he met you, he's such a cute little romantic."

"Did you just call Cas a 'cute little romantic'?" Dean scoffed. "Shut up, Sam. Just stop talking."

"He's right, Dean-o," Gabriel commented. "You'd make all his little dreams come true. Wouldn't that be sweet?"

"Will you guys give it a rest?" Dean gritted through his teeth. "Why don't you two go get married, if you're so worried about it? I'm about two seconds away from punching the daylights outta the both of you."

"I'd like to see you try," Gabriel egged him on, but Sam caught his eye and shook his shaggy head.

"Alright, alright," the younger Winchester relented. "I'm serious, though. Grow a pair and just do it. We all know he's gonna say yes."

Dean didn't respond, just plopped down in his chair at the table and rolled his shoulders to ease the tension that had been steadily building up in them.

"Dinner is served!" Jody called cheerfully, appearing in the doorway. "Come on in and get it, we're doing it buffet-style. I ain't carrying all those plates and platters in here."

The men eagerly jumped up and headed to the kitchen, lining up to fill their plates with delicious, traditional Thanksgiving-style food.

"Jody, you're a Godsend," Bobby announced, gaping at everything she had prepared. She beamed and pecked him lightly on the cheek, which got a few raised eyebrows from the rest of the company but was left un-commented on – it wasn't as though the boys didn't already suspect, anyhow.

Plates stacked tall with slices of stuffed turkey, mashed potatoes dripping in gravy, cranberry sauce, corn pudding, cheesy pasta, fruit salad, dinner rolls, and an assortment of odd little cheese-and-vegetable-crackers, everyone settled down at the table and dug in without hesitation. There wasn't much conversation, considering how full everyone's mouths were. Castiel had the most etiquette of the group, closely followed by Jody, because they both actually chewed before they swallowed and used cutlery like it was made to be used, but the rest of the men ate as if it were their last meal on earth, using forks like shovels to cram in the food until they couldn't fit any more.

"Holy crap," Dean cried around a mouthful of pasta and potatoes. "This stuff is amazing."

"Castiel did the potatoes," Jody told them, winking at the angel.

"Cas, you gotta make these more often, man," Dean raved, hardly pausing in stuffing his face. "You never told me you could cook like this!"

"They're really good, Cas," Sam added, nodding in agreement.

"Thank you," Castiel replied shyly.

Although no one was voicing it, and a couple people (mainly Dean) were probably too distracted by their heaven-on-a-plate to really stop and think about it, there was an air of contentment and honest-to-goodness gratefulness surrounding the table. Castiel and Gabriel had never celebrated any kind of holidays the traditional human way, except last year's Christmas, and even that had only been a half-assed affair because both Sam and Dean were busy working on hunts across the country from each other. The Winchesters had never celebrated the holidays like this either; John hadn't put much value on spending time together as a family when they were younger, and even once they had grown up, they just hadn't had the time for it. But here, gathered around the table at Bobby's, it was a real, true, all-American Thanksgiving dinner; brother sitting across from brother, lover next to lover, father beside son. It was a whole new experience for everyone involved, except maybe Jody, but when she thought about it, she realized that even none of her own Thanksgiving holidays had been this special in a very long time.

And of course, who would be the one to channel into all of the sentimental feelings floating around but Sam, who looked down at his half-emptied plate, biting his lip and feeling tears prick the backs of his eyes.

"What's wrong, Sam?" Gabriel asked him with concern, noticing his silence immediately.

"It's just..." The younger Winchester shot a glance at his brother, hoping he wouldn't be made fun of too much for what he was about to say. "This is really good, you know? All of us here, sitting down and eating together, like a family. It feels good."

To his astonishment, Dean didn't even crack a smile. He paused, fork partway to his mouth, and met Sam's eyes with a serious look that seemed very foreign on his face. After a long silence, he said, voice breaking slightly, "Yeah. Yeah, Sammy, you're right. It feels good."

Sam swiped at the tear trailing down his cheek, embarrassed, but smiling hard. He assumed he would be made fun of for this somewhere down the road, but right now, bringing everyone's attention to the special thing they had right there, in that moment, was most important. Gabriel placed a tender hand over his own, and he interlocked their fingers tightly, hardly noticing Dean and Castiel do the same. Bobby seemed stunned by the sudden onslaught of emotion being displayed at his table, but caught Jody's eye, and her knowing smile and wink snapped him out of his stupor.

"Sure is nice to have you boys home," he told them in his typical gruff voice, though it was just a touch softer than usual. "All of ya."

Sam and Dean smiled a little, while the angels both stayed completely stoic and nodded, recognizing the weight of what was being said.

Home. They were home. And it had never felt better.

"'...before it was too late. Someone should tell their side of the story, and maybe people would understand then and wouldn't be so quick to judge a boy by...' Dean?"

The hunter started, caught off guard by Castiel's sudden interruption in his own reading. "Yeah, Cas?"

"Why do Gabriel and Sam keep looking at my hands? Is there something I am missing?" the angel asked.

Dean sucked in a sharp breath and closed his eyes, letting his head fall back against the headboard of the bed that had been set up in their room at Bobby's house. He stilled his fingers, which were stroking through Castiel's dark mess of hair while the angel rested his head on his lap and read out loud, drawing near the end of the book they had started on the day they arrived for Thanksgiving. His heart began thudding dangerously in his chest. He wasn't ready for this, but he didn't really figure that he'd ever be ready. So it was now or never.

"Dean?" Castiel brought him out of his reverie, staring up at him with wide blue eyes.

"Uh, no, Cas, you're not missing anything, man," Dean began slowly, stumbling over his words in his nervousness. "It's just... I've been thinking about maybe... If you wanted to, I mean, it's not a huge deal or anything. Well, no, it is a big deal, to me at least, because I – I mean, I would be really happy, but you don't have to –"

"Dean." A firm hand placed over his thundering heart reminded him to breathe, and helped him clear his head.

"Sorry," he whispered. "Um, can you let me up for a sec?"

Castiel knitted his eyebrows together in concern but nodded and sat up, watching closely as Dean stood on shaking knees and bent over to his duffel bag, rummaging through the pockets. When he finally found whatever he was looking for, he hurriedly hid it behind his back and stood to face his angel.

"Cas... Castiel," he breathed, swallowing hard and taking a step forward. When Castiel stayed quiet, unmoving except for a questioning eyebrow, he continued, "We've known each other for a long time. I mean, it feels like forever. You've always been there to help me, and to guide me, and I'm really thankful for you having my back all the time. You've changed my life in... in so many ways. You're my best friend, Cas. And now you're more than that, and I'm so lucky, I can barely believe it sometimes..." He choked on a huge knot of emotion that was rising up in his throat, threatening to burst out and take over him, but he swallowed again and pushed through. He had rehearsed this a million times, had a million and one different things to say, but when it really mattered, they all flew out of his head and left him here, with nothing but his heart to speak from. So he stopped thinking, and just let it out.

"I don't ever wanna be without you, Cas. You mean so much to me. And I... I love you. I love you so much sometimes I feel like I'm gonna fall apart. I need you, Cas. Always. So I was wondering, if maybe... if you would..." He blinked back tears of what might have been either joy or nervousness – he couldn't tell – and crowded between the V of Castiel's legs, kneeling down and pulling the small canvas bag out from behind his back. Gathering all the courage he could muster, he spoke in a voice so small that it was almost a whisper. "Cas, will you marry me?"

A ring slid out of the bag and into Dean's waiting palm. It was a simple silver band, but around the center was a circle of tiny blue stones, glistening in the light from the small lamp beside the bed. When Dean tilted his hand, Castiel noticed the small engraving on the inside; 'C.W.' It took him a moment, but when it hit him, it hit him like a truckload of bricks. Castiel Winchester.

"Cas, man, say something," Dean pleaded up at the angel.

"Dean," he breathed, the only thing he could remember how to say. "Dean..."

His bright blue eyes shone, matching the stones in the ring exactly. He searched his hunter's face, trying to find words, coming up empty-handed, stuck on the edge of putting feelings into intelligible sounds. Finally, he found what he was looking for, gasping in relief, nodding frantically and throwing his arms around Dean's neck in a vice-like grip, a breathlessly tight embrace. "Yes," he cried out. "Yes, Dean, yes."

Dean wrapped firm arms around his back and stood, holding him close, lifting him off the bed and Castiel wrapped his legs around Dean's waist, never wanting to let go. "I love you," he whispered against Dean's skin, wouldn't have been able to stop himself from saying it if he tried. "I love you, Dean."

"I love you back, Cas," Dean choked, burying himself in his angel, feeling a sort of absolute joy that he couldn't remember having ever known before.

When they finally fell apart, crawling onto the bed, tangling loosely together, Dean opened his clenched fist to reveal the ring, which had left a circular indent in his palm from his tight grip. He grinned at Castiel as he tenderly pulled his left hand toward him, slipping the ring onto his third finger. "God, that feels good," he sighed, rubbing Castiel's knuckle with his thumb. "Looks good, too."

Castiel said nothing, just nuzzled into his hunter's chest, twining their bodies together and humming. He thought back to a couple days ago at the Thanksgiving dinner table, when they had all shared in that peaceful moment, that feeling of family. And as his heart thudded against Dean's, as he breathed in the scent of his hunter, as he reveled in the warmth of his arms, the embrace that he would never, ever have to give up now that they were going to be married – married – he agreed with Bobby even more wholeheartedly than he had before.

Yes, it sure was nice to be home.


End file.
